


32,000 Feet

by crazyTXgradstudent



Category: Michael Fassbender/Original Female Character - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Assault, Domestic Violence, F/M, Graduate School, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Physical Abuse, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 42
Words: 94,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2421296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyTXgradstudent/pseuds/crazyTXgradstudent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sitting on a plane next to the dude you write fanfiction about. Not cool...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Ma’am I am sorry but there are no more seats available on this flight unless you go first class. Would you like to do that?” the airline representative asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I already told you I can’t afford that,” Reagan said, getting frustrated herself.

The representative shrugged her shoulders before replying, “Well the only thing you can do is wait for the next flight, but that doesn’t leave til tomorrow at 820am. It will arrive in Tampa at approximately 335pm.”

Reagan sighed again in frustration, shifting her bag on her shoulders as she fought back tears.

“I already told you that will be too late. There has to be something that can be done. Please?” she was practically begging, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Ma’am, unless you can pay the $1177 you are going to have to wait til tomorrow. I am sorry but that is all we have left.”

Reagan stood there for a moment, blinking back angry tears of frustration. Her fucking cab had been late resulting in her missing her first flight, and now there was no room on this flight. If she didn’t get there before 1200 tomorrow, she was going to lose out on the opportunity of a lifetime – and completely ruin her credibility all at the same time. Fucking fuck. The representative stared at her impassively a bit longer before Reagan shrugged her shoulders in defeat, knowing there was no way she could afford that ticket.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the representative said, and Reagan shrugged again. She picked up her bag off the floor, slipping it on her back before walking over to a corner and sitting down dejectedly. She pulled her hoodie over her head, and sank down low in the chair so that the people sitting nearby wouldn’t see her falling apart. There goes all the research she had been working on for the past 4 years, all down the drain because she missed her fucking flight. She pulled out her cellphone, scrolling through her contacts to try to email the organization and let them know of her situation. She might as well catch a cab back home, as there was no need for her to even go to Tampa now. If you don’t show up for your own research presentation, who the fuck will take you serious? No, one – that’s who.

She looked up as the passengers were being called to board the last flight that would get here to her destination on time, knowing all hope was lost. If somebody would just get sick, or cancel, or something…

Nope. One by one the passengers filed in, each walking down the walkway to the plane, killing Reagan’s hope even further. Seeing the last person file through, she bent over, picking up her bag and shoved her cell phone in her pocket. Yes, she would just go home. No sense in waiting for the flight tomorrow.

“Excuse me! Ma’am? Ms. Dunworth? Reagan Dunworth?” the representative called from behind the counter, and Reagan turned back, looking at her wearily. What now? The representative motioned for her to come over, and Reagan sighed, grabbing her back pack and walked over to the counter.

“I don’t need a flight tomorrow. It will be too late, so don’t bother,” Reagan began, before being interrupted.

“Oh no ma’am! I have good news. A gentleman paid for your first class ticket, that is if you still want it?” the representative asked, a smile on her face.

“Wh..what? What did you say?” Reagan asked, not daring to believe her ears.

“A gentleman asked what the problem was with you and I explained the situation and he decided that he wanted to purchase your ticket for you,” she said, handing over the boarding pass to Reagan. “You’ll be in first class, seat 3A. You will be seated next to the gentleman that purchased the ticket, just be aware of that.”

Reagan looked at the representative sharply, warnings going off. What if this guy was a weirdo? Now she was indebted to him and she had to sit by him. All the way to Florida.

“Oh don’t worry, ma’am. He’s actually quite lovely from what I gathered. You’ll be surprised when you meet him, I am sure. Nothing to worry about. It definitely didn’t dent his pocketbook, so no need to worry about that.”

“You sure?” Reagan asked, still unsure. It was still a large amount of money, no matter who you were.

“Oh I am sure. Now you better hurry, they are getting ready to pull the ramp away.”

Reagan grabbed the ticket and her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder as she made her way down the ramp. She stepped inside the plane, smiling at the flight attendant and handed her the flight pass.

“Right this way, ma’am,” the attendant said, beckoning Reagan to follow. They went down to the third row and she could see the top of a man’s head, bent over as he was looking downward. He had on a ball cap and head phones already in place. All she could see was a hint of reddish-brown hair hanging out from underneath the cap. He had a bit of red scruff on his jaws as well, but other than that he was occupied with his phone, or whatever was in his lap. He was sitting in the window seat – which she wanted but fuck she couldn’t be greedy right? The man had bought her a ticket after all…

“This is your seat here, ma’am,” the flight attendant said, her smile huge in her too perfect face. Did all flight attendants look like barbies? Shaking her head at herself, she opened up the overhead bin and placed her backpack there, taking out her laptop and paperwork to go over her proposal. She closed the bin door and sat down, not looking at the man next to her. How completely awkward was this?? She leaned forward, unzipping her hoodie and pulling it off, already feeling stifled in the plane. Just then, the man looked up and at her, and Reagan’s breath caught. She knew this guy. She was sure she knew him but there was no fucking way…

He pulled one headphone off, and held out his hand, that toothy grin unmistakable. Oh yes, she definitely knew this man.

“I’m Michael. Glad to see you made it on board,” he said, winking at her as she forced herself to close her gaping mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael Fassbender was sitting next to her. Michael Fassbender had bought her plane ticket. Michael fucking Fassbender.

“You alright, love?” Michael asked, and Reagan mentally shook herself, trying not to look like a complete idiot. Besides the fact that he was Michael Fassbender and he just called her love, what could possibly be wrong?

“Um…yeah…I am so sorry! My name’s Reagan. I just…well you know…I didn’t expect…Look thank you for the ticket, you really didn’t have to do that. If you give me some info I can definitely pay you back,” Reagan said hurriedly, before slapping her hand over her mouth. “Holy shit that sounds stalkerish doesn’t it? Like you would really give me some info? I am so sorry! I am not-”-

“That’s a nice shirt you’ve got there by the way,” Michael said, his eyes glinting with mischief as he looked down at her top. She had on her Amplified Iron Maiden t-shirt over her white long sleeve tee. He unzipped his jacket as well and holy shit he had the same t-shirt on. The same exact t-shirt. Fucking fuck. Michael chuckled again, balling up his hoodie and tucking it under his arm as he settled back in the chair. The two remained silent for the next few minutes as the flight attendant gave her spiel, the plane taxiing off the runway and finally ascending. Regan felt her ears pop, and she wiggled her jaw, trying to relieve the pressure. She heard Michael undo his seat belt, and she felt her anxiety rising as he turned towards her.

“So, tell me what was so important for you to make it to Tampa?” he asked, looking down at the papers and laptop on her lap. “Work, I presume?”

Dragging herself back to reality, Reagan snapped to. Work and school she could talk about. As long as she didn’t look at him, that is..

“Umm…yeah…well I am working on this proposal for my research and I am presenting it at a conference tomorrow.”

“What kind of research?” Michael asked, staring at her intently. She couldn’t concentrate when he was staring at her like that. It’s like he was seeing right through her, and he had to know what was running through her head. He was so damn hot with his blue eyes and red-brown hair. That stubble on his cheeks was just begging for her to run her fingers over it…

“You alright, then?” Michael asked, grinning at her again. Reagan squinted at him, trying to comprehend what she was saying or had been saying before he smiled at her. His fucking teeth were everywhere…Michael waved his hand in front of her face and she finally came to, blinking a few times and shaking her head.

“Sorry! I space out a lot,” Reagan apologized, her face burning hot with embarrassment. God! He must think she was a complete idiot!!

“Your research?” he prompted, thankfully looking down at his phone which gave her a much needed respite from his beautiful face.

“Oh yeah! Basically it’s a counseling theory that I am working on with military couples, and I am sure it will work, but I have to prove it, and then I can get some funding and work on this new intervention that I want to work with that involves attachment theory and infidelity, and…” Reagan trailed off, the expression on his face halting her. His brows were drawn together as he grinned at her. And there went her breath once again….

“You are passionate about this aren’t you, girl?” he said, tapping on his phone once again as he looked away from her.

“A little,” Reagan said ruefully, looking down at the stack of papers in her lap.

Michael laughed out loud, a hearty sound that filled the small space between them causing her to look back up at him. Reagan couldn’t help but giggle a bit as well; his laughter was infectious.  
“A lot is more like it,” he said, turning in his seat towards her, propping his chin up on his hand as he rested his arm on the console between them. “That’s amazing stuff you’ve got there, and I am sure it’s something that will benefit those soldiers and their families.”

Reagan flushed under his gaze, looking once more down at her stack of papers, pretending to be shuffling them on top of her laptop. Michael reached over, his fingertip tracing the worn out label that was stuck to the laptop. It was peeling around the edges, barely having made it through grad school, but it was very loud, the hot pink and white a sharp contrast to her black laptop.

“What’s that mean? Crazy – what is that Texas - grad student?” he looked up at her, curiousity and something else mixed in his gaze. Oh fuck.

CrazyTXgradstudent was the pseudonym she had gone under when she was writing stories, with most of those being about the man sitting next to her. A year ago she was in a not-so-good place and these stories had helped her to get through the hardest part of school. Never in a million years did she think she would actually run into the man she was writing about. Fuck. Did he know? How could he know? Oh my god what if he had read the stories?? Holy shit! Her mind was running crazy, interrupted only as he tapped the label again, drawing her attention back up to his face. His brow was arched and she was sure he was hiding something from her. Reagan felt her face flame again with the possibility that he knew what she had been writing about.

“Umm…it’s a nickname I was given. I have. Right now. It’s a nickname in grad school, which I am in right now. Grad school that is,” she squeaked out, not making sense at all. She quickly shoved her laptop back in the case, zipping it as fast as she could.

“So..it’s a nickname that you have right now in grad school?” Michael queried, his finger running across his lips in thought. His perfect, thin lips with that beautiful scar right above his top lip. “Seems familiar somehow…” Michael trailed off, and Reagan jerked her eyes up to his in shock. Did he know?

“Fa…familiar?” she stammered, her voice still unusually high.

“Yeah. I’ve seen it somewhere, but I can’t place it.”

“Oh I am sure you haven’t. It’s an inside joke…from my peers….and nobody else would know that except me. And my peers. At grad school.” God she sounded like a complete idiot.

“Hmmm,” Michael said, looking at her carefully, and he was smirking. She was sure of it. Fucking fuck. She quickly ducked her head, pretending to look at her papers once again. She needed to get up. She needed to get up and go somewhere and calm herself down before she freaked the fuck out. She looked around frantically, searching for the quickest way to the bathroom.

“That way,” Michael said, pointing towards the back of the plane. Yeah he was definitely smirking at her. Asshole. Reagan stood up, depositing her papers and laptop in the seat and walked down the aisle, locking herself in one of the bathrooms. She closed the toilet and sat down on the lid, holding her hands to her face, trying to cool herself down. Fuck but that man was unnerving. How was she going to sit next to him for the next 5 hours?? She felt like he could see right through her, right into her! She sat there for a few moments, until a knock came at the door, jolting her out of her racing thoughts.

“One moment, please,” she called out, standing up and staring at herself in the mirror. Nothing to see here, she thought as she stared at herself with a grimace. Why the hell didn’t she check her makeup before? She had smudges under her eyes and she didn’t even want to get started on her hair. Shaking her head at herself, she washed her hands and smoothed her hair down before unlocking the door. An older lady was standing by the door, smiling at her gently as she came out.

“Sorry,” Reagan mumbled apologetically before turning to walk down the aisle. She steeled her nerves and headed back to her seat, her heart thumping in her chest still. Michael was there, playing on his phone once again, and she was momentarily relieved, thinking that maybe he would leave her be. No such luck. No sooner had she sat down than he turned to her, with what can only be described as a wolfish grin on his face. He held his phone out to her, beckoning her to take it.

“What?” she asked hesitantly, looking at him as she took the phone from him. She looked down and her heart dropped in her chest. Fucking fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck!

“That you, love?” Michael asked, the humor in his voice unmistakable.

There bigger than shit was all the writings done by crazyTXgradstudent. By her. All pulled up and glaring at her from his screen. Reagan closed her eyes, handing the phone back to him without a word. She was going to die right here. Right here on this plane and in this seat she was going to die from embarrassment.

“Well?” Michael pressed, taking the phone from her trembling fingers. She couldn’t – wouldn’t –look at him. No fucking way. Then he would know for sure. “Judging by your reaction, I’d say yes, then?”

Reagan leaned over, placing her head on her arms which were folded on top of her laptop and papers. “It was a weird time, okay? I was under stress and I needed to vent and these stories helped me get through stuff, and I am sorry okay,” she mumbled, not wanting to look at him. She lay there for some time, wondering what he was going to say to her admission. When she heard nothing, she peeked out a bit, looking sideways at him. His eyebrows were drawn together as he used his fingertip to scroll through his phone.

“What are you doing?” Reagan cried, her voice frantic. “Are you reading them? Don’t read them!”

Michael turned to her, that wolfish grin replaced with something darker, an almost evil grin, as he replied, “Of course I am going to read them, love. It’s about me, isn’t it?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, daring her to disagree.

“I am seriously going to die,” she mumbled, burying her face back into her arms.

“Well I have already read the first part when it was first posted, just so you know. I had no idea you wrote a second part,” Michael said nonchalantly, and Reagan felt her breath catch. Oh my God. He had already read the biggest part of the story. Galveston, Jana, the shark bracelets! Fuck! The fucking idiotic shark bracelets!!

“It was a good story, but I am not that nice, love,” Michael said, his gravelly voice drawing her attention and she peeked at him again.

“What does that mean?” Reagan asked, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“That means that the Michael in your story is a pipe dream. I can be quite the asshole, especially where women are concerned,” Michael continued, his gaze hard on her. Reagan immediately felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in warning, and she backed away from him, as much as the seat would allow. He was unnerving for sure, but now it was in a bad way, in a way that made her feel very small.

“Hey, I am sorry. I don’t know you – didn’t know you – I was just writing stuff, and …look I can delete it all, if you’ll let me. I can log in and I’ll delete everything. I totally forgot about those stories – it was over a year ago I think when I stopped,” she apologized, not quite sure why she was feeling so afraid of him.

“No don’t delete it. I am going to read it, see if it gets any better. I think I deserve that at least,” Michael said almost derisively, and Reagan made a choking sound. She had really pissed him off. The man who had bought her plane ticket was now highly pissed at her and he had every right. Michael popped his headphones in, indicating that he was done talking with her. Reagan grabbed her hoodie, pulling it over her head and inserting her own headphones as she tried to ignore the man next to her.

* * *

 

“Ma’am?”

  
Reagan opened her eyes, squinting at the flight attendant in front of her.

  
“Ma’am, we’re getting ready to land in approximately 30-35 minutes. Just wanted you to be aware so that you could get your things together,” the flight attendant smiled at her, moving down the aisle as she spoke to other passengers. Reagan looked around the plane in a bit of confusion, her eyes coming to rest on the man next to her, his intense blue eyes looking back at her.

“You know you snore?” he asked, his chin propped up by his hand as he stared at her. Fucking asshole.

  
“You are so charming, you know that?” Reagan said, unwilling to put up with his bullshit anymore.

  
“According to you I am. Your Michael is the _sweetest, most perfect man ever_ ,” Michael said, his voice mocking her writing. Reagan turned her glare on him now.

“I told you I would delete it. I told you I was sorry. I told you not to read it, but you did, didn’t you?”

  
Michael nodded. “Every last chapter. Sickeningly sweet.”

  
“And that is why I write the way I do, because I don’t want my characters to be arrogant assholes,” Reagan bit out, not giving a fuck anymore. “Even if they are in real life.”

Michael leaned back against his seat, definitely taken aback.

  
“Really? What exactly would you know about me? Other than my name and what I look like?” Michael asked, looking at her pointedly. Reagan flushed under his gaze, knowing he was absolutely right. She didn’t know a damn thing about this man until now – and right now she didn’t like him very much. Right now he was an asshole and she couldn’t wait to get away from him.

“You’re right. I don’t know anything about you. Thank you for enlightening me. As soon as I get to my hotel, I will delete it all, Mr. Fassbender. That’ll be the end of it and we’ll never see each other again,” Reagan said, angrily shoving her arms in her hoodie and zipping it up. She grabbed her laptop and portfolio from where it was shoved next to her and clutched them tightly against her chest, willing the plane to hurry up and land. Please just fucking land so she could get off this fucking plane with this fucking asshole next to her.

  
“Actually you owe me over $1100 and I will expect you to pay me back,” Michael said flatly, his voice giving nothing away. Reagan gasped as she looked at him, more embarrassed now than ever.

  
“I never asked for you to pay for my ticket. You did that on your own, so don’t imply that I did-”

  
“I’m not implying. I paid for your ticket. You owe me money. I expect it to be returned. When can you do that?”

  
Reagan closed and opened her mouth a few times, staring at him in shock. His gaze was unwavering, his eyes hooded with some emotion that she couldn’t place.

  
“Fine. When I get to my hotel, I will send the money. I have to transfer from a few accounts, but I’ll send it to you. How do we exchange information?” she bit out through clenched teeth.

“Give me your number,” he ordered, looking up at her as he held his finger over his phone.

  
“Why?”

  
“So I can text you. Then you text me back. We’ll have each other’s number. After we land we can arrange for payment.”

  
Reagan reluctantly recited her number, her eyes focused on the back of the seat in anger. What a fucking asshole this man was. She felt her phone vibrate in her hand and she looked down, seeing a message from him. All it had was his name, and she angrily saved the contact information.

  
“Done.”

  
“Good. I’ll text you or you text me when you have the funds and we’ll go from there,” Michael said, his voice grating on her nerves. “Don’t want you to forget about me.”

  
“Oh believe me, I won’t forget you, Mr.Fassbender. How could I?” Reagan said, her voice dripping with acid over being so embarrassed.

  
“Told you I was nothing like those silly stories you girls write,” Michael said, his voice patronizing.  _What.  A.  Fucking.  Asshole._

  
Reagan stared up ahead, keeping her eyes on the television at the front of the plane as the minutes ticked slowly by. She wanted to knock the shit out of him. Punch him right in his smug, bastardly face, but she sighed instead, shrugging her shoulders as she replied to him.

  
“No. You are nothing like what I imagined, but thank you for showing me the error of my ways.”

  
“Sarcasm is not lost on me, love,” Michael said, his voice irritatingly pleasant once again. Reagan had enough. She turned to him, directing all her anger at him. She was so pissed off her lips were twitching, and she could feel the hot tears of frustration creeping in, but she would be damned if she would cry in front of this arrogant dick.

  
“You know what? First off don’t fucking call me love. Second, you can go fuck yourself. I didn’t ask for you to buy my ticket – you did that on your own. Yes, I wrote some stupid, idiotic story with you as a character. People do it all the time. You can be sure I would have chosen someone else had I known what a dick you really are. When we land, I will make it my first priority to get your money back to you. Then you can take your money and shove it up your ass. Either way, I don’t give a fuck what you do. I can’t wait to get off this plane, pay you back, and never see or hear from you again. Believe that,” Reagan whispered furiously, wanting to scream at him but knowing she couldn’t on a plane full of curious passengers who were already looking at them with interest. He didn’t say anything, just stared impassively back at her, his mouth taut. Either she had stunned him or completely pissed him off - she couldn’t read him, her heart pounding in her chest.

  
Goddamn but she wanted to get off this fucking plane. She stared at him, her heated brown eyes meeting his glacial blue, neither wanting to concede. She finally had to look away, angrily wiping at her eyes. She would not fucking cry. She would not fucking cry. She kept repeating that, grinding her teeth together as she struggled to maintain her composure. She swallowed hard, staring once again at the screen up front as the plane began to make it’s descent. Finally. The flight attendant called for all passengers to buckle their seats and to place their trays in the upright position. She furiously grabbed her seat belt, trying to buckle it but couldn’t see it through the tears that were blinding her. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes.

“Fucking piece of shit seatbelt!” she whispered to herself, fumbling with it and trying to get it to latch. She blinked again as two hands came into view, pushing hers away. Michael leaned over, quickly buckling it for her, momentarily stunning her with his close proximity. Just as quickly he was gone, scooting back into his own seat once again.

  
“You’re welcome,” he said, pulling his ball cap down low on his head as he stared straight ahead.

  
“Fuck off,” Reagan replied, looking straight ahead herself.

  
Neither one spoke to the other as they both exited the plane, fake smiles in place as they went their separate ways.


	3. Chapter 3

Reagan slammed the door to her hotel, not getting the satisfying noise she was hoping for. Damn nice hotel doors, she thought in frustration. She dropped her bags by the hall closet and stepped into the main area, some of her anger dissipating as she saw how big the room was. Mainsail Tampa was where she was staying, and she had paid a pretty penny for it. The good thing was that the presentation was held down below in the hotel’s conference center, so she would not have to travel at all if she didn’t want to. She walked over to the window, pulling the curtains apart and looked at the city down below. Downtown Tampa. If she wasn’t so aggravated right now she might go exploring, but that asshole on the plane had completely ruined her evening. She walked back over to her laptop, pulling it out and opening it. She needed to get her WIFI going and get this asshole back his money. For about 2 seconds the thought crossed her mind that she wouldn’t pay him back, that she would just blow him off. He had bought the ticket on his own – she had not forced him. Hell, she hadn’t even known about it. Just as quickly as that thought appeared it disappeared – she knew she would give him his money back. She wouldn’t feel right about it if she didn’t. She could be called many things, but a cheat was not one.

Her thoughts quickly turned to Kevin and she got a sour taste in her mouth. Kevin, the guy she had been dating since starting grad school, the guy she was engaged to. The guy that just revealed he’d been cheating on her for the past year. She shook her head, trying to get those thoughts out. Every time she thought about it she got sick at her stomach. She had no idea, and it had been happening right underneath her nose. How could she be so stupid? Yes she was busy – extremely – and yes they were heading in different directions, but she thought everything was going fine. Kevin had apologized profusely and even now was still begging for forgiveness, but she just didn’t know if she could get past this. He said he was lonely, and that she was always working, and this was all true. But did it excuse this behavior? She didn’t know. She still cared about him, still loved him even, or at least she thought so. She looked up from her laptop, staring out the window at the darkening sky and shook her head. She didn’t know what she thought anymore to be honest and she didn’t know where the relationship was at. He told her to take her time, to think on things, and she agreed. Before they made any rash decisions they would take their time. She looked down at her engagement ring, sighing as she stared at it. Things had been so good and now they were all turned to shit. She shook her head, trying to clear it as the WIFI finally connected.

She logged in to her accounts and shifted money around. It took 3 different accounts and a credit card advance to pool together the entire $1177 that she owed the asshole. Being a broke grad student was not a myth – it was reality for her. Now she was even broker, but she would be damned if she didn’t give this asshole his money and tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. She stared down at her cellphone, debating on whether to text him or call. Or maybe he should just call her, the fucking dick, since he wanted his money so badly. She made her decision – he could call her, and if he didn’t then oh the hell well. She wasn’t going to worry about it this evening, not when she had all this work to still do.  Just then her stomach growled and she groaned, knowing that it would be vending machine food tonight unless the café was still open downstairs. It was already after 6pm so they may be closed, but she hopped up anyway, grabbing her cell and purse, and shoved her room key in her back pocket as she headed out the door. She stepped into the elevator and headed downstairs. The elevator came to a stop and she stepped out and headed to the restaurant.

Latitudes Bar and Grill was the name of the place and thank goodness it was still open. It did look like it was closing though and soon, being a Sunday. She quickly walked up to the bar, taking a seat on the stool and smiling as the bartender came over to her.

“What can I get you, miss?” he said, handing her a menu. “We’re shutting the grill down in a little less than an hour, so you’ve got time. Something to drink to start off with?”

“You have Guinness?” Reagan asked, not seeing it on the menu.

“Bottle or tap?” the bartender asked, writing on his pad.

“Tap to start with please. I’ll get a bottle - or a few -  to go,” Reagan said, smiling ruefully at him.

“That bad, huh?” the bartender asked, smiling back at her.

“Could have been worse I guess, but yeah,” she replied, looking back down at the menu. “I think I’ll just get the bacon cheeseburger with fries. Make it to go, please.”

“You got it,” the bartender said, writing down on his pad once again. “Everything on it?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay, I’ll get this started and I’ll be right back with your beer.” Reagan nodded, handing the menu back to him and stared at the big screen behind the bar. The Broncos and Seahawks were playing, with Denver trying to not repeat that disaster that was the SuperBowl. She loved Peyton Manning and would always pull for him, unless they were playing the Cowboys. She was a Dallas girl at heart, and there was no changing that. The bartender came back, bringing her Guinness and she gratefully took it. He walked back to the kitchen area as she took her first sip, the foam at the top a delicious respite from all the aggravation of the day.

“Run you idiot! Run!” she said, almost yelling at the screen, watching as Wes Welker got tackled at the line of scrimmage. Peyton pulled them back into the huddle. 3rd and 18. Needed to make a 1st down or they would be punting. Again. The damn Seahawks were just so fast off the line, never giving Peyton any time in the pocket. She heard Peyton yell “Omaha, Omaha” and throw the ball. And there it goes - a fucking interception. She shook her head in annoyance, taking another long drink of her beer.

“Just like the Superbowl,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head at the screen.

“Fancy meeting you here,” that unmistakable voice, right by her ear - and that smell of cologne - made every hair on her body stand on end.  Regan almost choked on her beer, her eyes watering as she tried to choke it down. She turned to her left, seeing the dick sitting next to her, that stupid smirk in place once again.

“I told you to fuck off, remember?” she said sweetly, turning her attention back to the game.

“Right you did, but you also owe me some money, remember love?” Michael said, his voice once again taking on a patronizing tone.

“It’s all ready. Tell me where to send it, or whatever. I can’t just pull money from an ATM, not that much anyways,” she said sarcastically, wincing as the Seahawks quickly made a mess of Denver’s defense. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, taking another long drink.

“You like football, then?” Michael asked, looking at her curiously.

“What? Because I am a girl I can’t like football?” Reagan spat back sarcastically, still staring at the screen.

“Just unusual, that’s all,” Michael said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well I don’t imagine any of the women you would hang out with would be football fans,” Regan said, frowning as the words left her mouth. Why was she even engaging in conversation with this asshole?

“Again with the assumptions of who I am and what I do with my life,” Michael said, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Whatever,” Reagan said, trying to ignore him as best she could. Denver had the ball back. Seahawks up by 10 and it was not looking good. “Fucking run the damn ball,” she muttered under her breath, frowning as Peyton once again threw it, narrowly missing yet another interception.

“You really are into this game aren’t you, girl?” Michael said, drawing her attention back to him.

“Oh you’re still here?” Reagan said, once again her voice dripping with sarcasm. He smelled so damn good and she knew he was ridiculously hot, but she would be damned if she let a little sexual attraction deter her from the fact that he was a complete asshole in the fullest sense of the word. Looks can definitely be deceiving. She took another long drink, gulping down the last of her beer. Shit but she had finished that fast. Just then the bartender came back, carrying her to-go bag in hand.

“Here you go, ma’am. You still want some beer to go?” the bartender asked, pulling out his pad again and preparing to write.

“Yeah. Guinness, give me a six-pack please,” she said, ignoring the chuckle that came from her left.

“You got it. Be right back with your beer and your ticket.”

“You watch football and you drink a lot of beer. What kind of woman are you?” Michael said, humor in his voice.

“The kind that wants you to get the fuck away from her,” Reagan said, sighing in aggravation. “Tell me where to send your money so we can be done with each other,” she said turning on the stool and facing him in aggravation. Her knees bumped his and she cursed again. “Don’t you know anything about personal space?”

“No,” Michael said, his voice deadpan.

“Figures,” Reagan replied, scooting back from him. She turned completely around and slid off the barstool, standing up and grabbing her purse and the to-go bag. She walked away from Michael and headed to the register, intent on paying for her stuff, picking up her beer, and leaving. He could stay down here by himself. The fact that he was in her hotel was aggravating the shit out of her. There was no escaping this asshole apparently. The bartender appeared and she handed him her card, willing him to hurry as fast as he could. She signed the receipt and handed it back to the bartender with a forced smile. Turning around and seeing Michael standing right behind her wiped the smile right off her face. She glared at him and then went around, her arms full of food and beer. She struggled to push the door open, cursing again as the asshole held it open for her. Once she was outside the bar, she turned to him, her patience running thin.

“What the fuck do you want? Other than your money?” Reagan hissed at him while he continued to smirk back at her. Michael shrugged, his hands in his pockets and that stupid grin on his face, looking every bit the predatory shark that he was. Fuck but he was so gorgeous. Reagan mentally shook herself, reminding herself that he was an asshole wrapped up in a pretty package. Nothing more. “Then tell me how to get you your money and we can be done with each other. I am missing the fucking football game because of you,” Reagan bit out, shifting the beer in her hands. The bags were cutting holes in her fingers. Michael leaned down, attempting to take the bag with the beers from her hand, but she jerked it back, frowning at him. Michael held his hands up and shook his head at her.

“I’m not stealing your beer, love. Even though Guinness is some damn good stuff, I could get my own. I was going to help you carry it to your room. Nothing else,” he said, grinning as she glared back at him.

“I don’t need your help and I certainly don’t want you knowing where my room is.” Michael leaned back on his heels, staring at her curiously, his head cocked to the side.

“What if we came to an agreement about the money?” he asked, his voice soft and blue eyes glittering.

“Oh this is rich! I have seen _Indecent Proposal_ , fuck you very much,” Reagan sneered, disgusted with him now. He must assume that every woman alive would want to jump him, no matter what the price. A while ago – hell a few hours ago – she would have agreed. The man was fucking sexy but now she knew that he was also a dickwad and that wasn’t worth $1100. No fucking way. Michael laughed out loud, the noise irritating her even further. She scowled at him, wondering what was so damn funny. She shifted the beers again, trying to balance everything.

“Was not implying anything of the sort, love. Let me carry the beer for you. Please,” Michael said, a small smile on his beautiful lips. _Evil! Evil lips_ , she mentally corrected herself. This man was bad business and she needed to watch herself around him. She felt the beer slip a little more as her purse fell off her shoulder, and she sighed, handing it to him reluctantly.

“Whatever,” she ground out, turning on her heel and walking down the hallway to the elevator. She pushed the button a hundred times, tapping her foot as it took it’s sweet ass time coming down.

“You only need to push it once,” Michael said, chuckling as he came up next to her.

“I really dislike you. I don’t know if I have been clear on that,” Reagan said, not bothering to look at him.

“Gathered as much,” Michael said good-humoredly. The doors opened and Reagan stepped inside, pushing the button and moving as far away from him as possible. The doors shut and it was just the two of them in the elevator. She stoically stared ahead, trying not to see his reflection in the mirror. Asshole was still smiling. Fuck he smelled good. Aftershave or cologne, maybe a cigarette in there – something. Whatever it was, it was making her head spin. That or she had chugged that beer too fast. Finally the doors opened at the 3rd floor, and she sighed inwardly in relief, stepping out as soon as she could. She quickly walked down the hall to her room, not bothering to see if he followed or not. When she finally got to her room, she reached in her back pocket and pulled out the room key, and opened the door. She walked in, almost letting the door slam on Michael as he followed her in. She dropped her things on the table near the door and turned to him, hands on hips.

“That’s far enough. You carried my beer, pat yourself on the back. Now you can leave.” Michael deposited the beer on the table and slowly walked towards her, his eyes glittering dangerously.

“I don’t think you really want me to leave, love,” he said softly, his eyes not leaving hers. Reagan felt her breath catch at the look in his eyes, arousal shooting straight through her. This man was disarming to say the least. Fuck. She lifted her chin in defiance still and pursed her lips.

“No, I do want you to leave. Immediately, or I’ll call the cops,” she challenged, her chin jutting out in anger. He came to stand right in front of her, and trailed one fingertip along her jawline. She shivered at his touch, and instinctively reached up, grabbing his hand from her face.

“You see? That tells me right there that you don’t want me to leave, love,” Michael said, his voice like warm whiskey washing over her.

“No…no… I do want you to leave,” Reagan choked out, her eyes and body betraying her. She didn’t know if she had ever been more aroused than she was right now. “I can’t stand you.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want me, love,” Michael said, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing her palm.  Fuck.  She was going to pass out right here. In this very spot she was going to dissolve into a puddle, right at his feet. She bit at her lower lip, staring up at him as he kissed each of her fingertips, his eyes never leaving hers. Was she breathing? She didn’t even know anymore.  Michael stepped forward again, his close proximity sending her head spinning. Still holding her hand, he leaned down, lightly kissing the corner of her mouth. Reagan closed her eyes, her heart pounding out of her chest in anticipation. When Michael shifted, his warm lips trailing over hers, she felt her knees buckle and she grasped at his shirt, clinging to him for all she was worth. She opened to him freely, allowed him to take her lower lip and nibble on it as he brought his hand to the back of her head and twisted it in her hair. He pulled her closer to him, and Reagan grasped at his shirt, moving her hands up to his neck and pulled at his short, coarse hair. His mouth was hot, his lips intent, and his tongue persistent in its exploration of her. She had never been kissed like this and she didn’t want it to stop, even though she hated this bastard.  Michael’s hands moved up to hers, grabbing them and pulling them around his waist and bringing them to his back. Reagan clutched at him, trying to maintain her bearings. She could feel the muscles bunching under his thin t-shirt, his hard chest pressed against hers. When he pushed her back and up against the wall, she had a moment of clarity, realizing what she – they – were doing.

“Michael…Michael…stop please,” she whispered, turning her head and pushing at him. He continued kissing her jawline, moving down to her neck. “Michael! Stop!” He pulled back, his eyes heavy with desire as he stared at her, lips slightly parted. He was breathing hard, his hair disheveled from her hands and he was sexy as hell. He looked at her in confusion, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. She held her hand up, halting him should he try.

“I can’t. I’m engaged,” she said, turning her hand around and putting the ring in his face. Michael stared at it for a moment then looked back at her, his eyes hooded with some emotion that she couldn’t place. “I’m sorry.”

He stepped back, righting his clothing, and ran his hands through his hair,  smoothing it back down.

“Engaged, huh?” Michael said, his voice flat as he stared at her. Not exactly, Reagan thought to herself, but she wouldn’t go into details with him. The last thing she needed was to get involved with someone like him.

“Yes. Engaged.”

Michael nodded, his mouth lifting at one corner.

“Well I guess that’s that, then,” he said and Reagan looked down, her mood dismal now. She busied herself with smoothing her clothing, not wanting him to see the look on her face. Michael stepped forward again, tilting her chin up with his forefinger as he stared down at her.

“Tell you what, keep the money. Consider it a wedding present,” he said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“No! No I can’t do that,” Reagan said, shaking her head in disagreement. “I need to pay you back.”

“It’s alright, love. No worries,” Michael said, stepping back and pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, looking down as he tapped on it.

“Michael, please. Let me pay you back,” Reagan said, inching towards him. Michael looked up, smiling at her as he shook his head.

“No, really. Keep it, and don’t worry about it,” he said, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Look, I need to get out of here, right? Got somewhere to be tomorrow, just as you do. Good luck on your presentation.” Reagan felt unreasonably sad and it confused her. A few minutes ago he was the biggest asshole on the planet and now she was wanting him to stay? Voluntarily offering to pay back this money on top of that! Michael shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at her with a smile as they stood there awkwardly staring at each other for a moment. He pulled one hand out, offering it to her and she took it, feeling the heat pass between them once again. She bit at her lower lip as her body shivered at the feel of his palm against hers. Her reaction was not lost on Michael as his mouth tightened as he stared at her.

“So, Reagan, good luck tomorrow and congratulations on your wedding,” Michael said gruffly, shaking her hand and squeezing it once more.

“Thank you,” Reagan replied, her voice low. Michael released her hand and turned, walking away and heading for the door. Reagan stood there for a moment, indecision weighing heavily on her. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to know.

“Michael! Wait,” she called, walking quickly over to the door. He turned, staring at her, his expression unreadable. “What was your proposal earlier? ”Reagan asked, her words strained with tension.

“Doesn’t matter now, love,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets once again as he stared at her, his eyes intensely blue.

“Yes it does, tell me please.”

“It wasn’t sexual, if that’s what you are implying,” he stated, his forehead creasing in that way.

“No?” Reagan asked, the shocked look on her face not missed by him. He grinned at her reaction, and she smiled back slightly.

“No,” he said, his eyes crinkling now with his smile.

“Then what did you want?” she asked, looking up at him with curiousity. Michael sighed, shrugging his shoulders at her.

“I wanted to spend the evening with you, hang out. You intrigue me, Reagan. I wanted to find out why,” Michael said, his face growing serious now, as he gestured between the two of them. “I swear I never meant for this to happen.”

“You wanted to spend the evening with me? Like what? Eating dinner?” He nodded at her.

“Yeah, eating dinner, watching television, whatever. I’m here alone for the evening, and I have never pissed anyone off the way I did you. Certainly never had anyone curse at me the way you did, and it peaked my interest.” Reagan giggled a bit as her face turned red, and she shook her head at him.

“I am sorry. You embarrassed me.”

“I embarrassed you? Don’t forget about the stories you wrote about me, love. Very explicit, might I add,” Michael laughed now, throwing his head back as he did so. Reagan covered her face in embarrassment, and peeked at him from behind her fingers.

“You’re right. I am sorry about those stories again. I will delete them as soon as I can sit down.”

Michael sobered now, shaking his head at her. “You don’t have to delete them. Now that I have met you, I like them a little more,” he said, winking at her. “They’re your writings, and you can do with them what you will, love.”

Reagan smiled shyly at him, her brain arguing with her over what she was about to do. It was a very bad idea, it warned. Fuck off, brain. Fuck off. “I’ve got six beers and a burger. Wanna stay and watch the game with me? Just watching the game, that is,” she said hastily, seeing the look on his face. “It’s Denver…” she trailed off, wondering if she sounded as desperate as she thought she did. He must think her pathetic! He cocked an eyebrow at her, staring at her in contemplation.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking at her hand again. “You’re engaged, remember?”

“I’m not propositioning you for sex, Michael, so calm down,” Reagan said, giggling as he laughed at her. “Just the game and some beers. It’s the least I can do if you won’t let me pay you back.”  Michael stared at her a moment longer and she held her breath as he made his decision. He shrugged again, inhaling a deep breath and letting it out. He nodded at her, a half-grin on his face once again.

“Okay, I’ll stay and watch the game. If you try anything sneaky I’ll have to call the cops,” he said, winking at her again. Reagan laughed, her words being thrown back at her from earlier.

“I knew it wouldn’t be long before Sir Asshole showed up again,” she teased, grabbing a beer and handing it to him. She popped the lid off of hers, using the edge of the table to remove it. “No bottle opener,” she said, shrugging at him as he grinned at her.

“You are something else, woman. Your fiancé is a lucky guy for sure,” he said, and Reagan flushed at his compliments. Inwardly she was screaming, wanting to tell him just what kind of guy her fiancé really was, but she was no better. Kissing and inviting a strange man up to her room who had bought her plane ticket and who she had just finished making out with. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she walked over to the television, flipping it on and finding the channel. She swore under her breath again. Fucking Denver.

“A Broncos fan, eh?” Michael asked, coming to stand next to her as she sat on the bed. She turned her glare towards him, and he backed away, holding up a hand. “I am sorry, love. I’ll be quiet.”

“Yes, please do so,” Reagan said, taking a long swallow of her beer as she turned her heated gaze back to the television. Michael grinned at her and pulled one of the chairs up to the bed, sitting down beside her and taking a swig of his beer. This girl was something else indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

3 hours later. The Broncos lost and Reagan was very buzzed, having had 4 Guinness – working on number 5 - and was taking shots of the Jim Beam that Michael had gone and brought back from his room. They were both sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed in front of the television, watching ESPN Sportscenter . Reagan giggled, leaning her head back against the bed and rolled it over towards Michael. She grinned at him, watching as he tossed back another shot. He hissed as the hot liquid snaked down his throat. 

“You know I should be studying for my presentation tomorrow,” Reagan said, her words slurred as her face became serious. Michael snorted, handing her another shot which she gladly took. Regan winced, choking it down.

“Nonsense. Take it from me – if you don’t know it by now you won’t learn it tonight,” Michael said, pointing his finger at her and cocking an eyebrow.

“That’s true,” Reagan said. He was an actor so he knew about memorizing things. She turned her attention back to the television, frowning when a name caught her eye. Kevin Williams, defensive tackle for the Seahawks. Kevin. Reagan set her beer down, drawing her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knee.

“My fiancé’s name is Kevin,” she whispered, her voice cracking. Michael stilled next to her, setting the shot glass on the floor between them. 

“Want to talk about it?” he asked hesitantly, unsure if he wanted to hear this story or not.

“He’s cheating on me? Cheated on me? I don’t know,” she said, turning her head on her knees and looking at Michael. “We have been dating for 4 years, and we are engaged, but he’s been cheating with a friend for the past year.”

Michael rubbed his hand over his chin, staring at the television screen in anger. He didn’t know Reagan that well but he knew her well enough to know she didn’t deserve this shit from a guy. He turned and looked at her, his blue eyes soft with concern.

“I’m sorry. That’s really shitty and I am sorry, Reagan,” Michael said softly.

Reagan blinked a few times, her emotions getting the better of her as her tears started falling. She turned her head and buried it in her arms that were folded over her knees. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, hiccupping as she did so. 

She felt Michael scoot over and reach for her, and she didn’t struggle as he pulled her down onto him. He had pulled the pillow out from underneath him and placed it on his lap, and then gently guided her so that her head was resting on the pillow. He carefully rubbed the hair off her face, pushing it back behind her ear as he tried to console her. Reagan sobbed silently, all the tears she hadn’t yet shed over Kevin finally falling. Michael continued rubbing her back and hair, watching her from above as she cried into his lap, eventually falling into a restless sleep. When he could no longer sit still, he carefully scooted out from under her and stood up, walking over to the bed. He pulled back the blankets and sheet, and walked back over to Reagan, lifting her up and gently placing her on the bed. He covered her with the sheet and blanket, smiling as she turned over and snuggled into the pillow. He couldn’t resist, leaning down and kissing her on her temple softly. He lingered a moment too long, and Reagan mumbled in her sleep.

“Kev..are you coming to bed?” she mumbled, reaching out for Michael in her sleep, thinking he was her fiance. Michael’s mouth screwed up in distaste – this he could not deal with. He abruptly stood up, moving out of her grasp. He stepped back, pulling up the chair from the end of the bed and sat down. He stared at Reagan for a while, rubbing his jaw and wondering what to do.

“Leave,” he muttered to himself. “Take your ass back to your room and go to bed.” That’s what he needed to do, just leave this girl and go back to his own life. She had a fiancé - a shitty one – but a fiancé nonetheless. He did not fuck around with someone in a relationship, whether it was good or not. 

“I do like you, Michael,” Reagan giggled, drawing Michael’s eyes back up to her. She still had her eyes closed, talking in her sleep apparently. “Don’t hate you…you are an asshole…” she mumbled again, a smile on her face. “I wish Kevin would kiss me like you do.” 

Michael grimaced, not knowing whether to be flattered or disgusted. Reagan’s face was screwed up again, her chin trembling as she wrestled with her demons in her sleep. She whimpered, and Michael heard another sob escape. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried in her sleep. He frowned, indecision weighing heavily on his mind as he pondered what he should do.

“Don’t leave me, please...” Reagan whispered, and Michael did not know if she was asleep, talking to him, or what the fuck was going on. She rolled over, facing away from him and she continued to mutter as her shoulders continued to shake in her distress. Sighing heavily, he moved towards her, covering her with the blanket. He smoothed her hair and kissed her temple one more time before standing up resolutely. He needed to get the fuck out of here before he got tangled up in something he did not want to be tangled in. 

Bad timing, really fucking bad timing.

With one last look at Reagan, he grabbed his cell phone and headed to the door. He stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him and made his way to the elevator. He shoved his hands in his pockets, frustration knotting his shoulders. He needed to go to sleep, get on with his schedule tomorrow, and forget about Reagan. Bottom line.


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up the next day, Reagan clutched her pounding head, looking around in confusion for a moment before remembering where she was. She leaned over, grabbing her cell phone off the bedside table and squinted at it.

932am.

Fuck.

She had her presentation at noon and she was nowhere near ready! She quickly stumbled out of bed, dragging sheets with her as she tried to untangle herself. Throwing the sheets back on the bed, she hurried to the bathroom. When she began stripping, she realized she was still in her clothes from yesterday, which brought her thoughts back to last night – or at least what she could remember. She pulled her shirt back over her head and peeked back out into the room, looking to see if Michael happened to be there. She walked over to the bed, peering over and around at the floor on other side. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized he was gone. Walking back to the bathroom, she noticed the almost empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the table by the television, along with the empty shot glass and empty beer bottles. Fucking fuck, she thought, her stomach turning at the thought of liquor.

What in the hell had come over her last night? The last thing she remembered was the Broncos lost and she and Michael started drinking. What happened after they sat on the floor, she couldn’t recall. That worried her. She remembered kissing him, but surely nothing had happened, right? She didn’t feel different and she still had her clothes on. Either way, she had made a very bad decision last night. Shaking her head in disgust, she walked back into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind her just for good measure. She quickly stripped off her clothing, stepping into the shower and hurriedly bathing. She had literally no time to fuck around this morning. When she had finished, she threw her clothes on, knowing she needed to go get something to eat before her presentation. She would be speaking for at least 2 hours, and she did not need her stomach growling mid-sentence. The idea of food turned her stomach, but she knew she had to eat. When she finished getting dressed, she grabbed her sunglasses, purse, and cell phone and headed back down to the café downstairs. She felt like shit, and she looked like shit, and hopefully the sunglasses would cover some of that. Arriving downstairs, she went to the little shop inside the hotel before going to the restaurant. She needed some Aleve before anything else.

Fuck but her head was pounding. 

After purchasing the medicine, she walked over to the restaurant, pulling the door open and stepping inside. She once again sat at the bar, wanting to get in and get out. The bartender walked over – a female this time – and smiled at her. Reagan tried to smile back, her head protesting at the movement.

“Good morning, ma’am. What can I get you?”

“I’d just like an eggwhite omelet please. That and an orange juice,” Reagan said, trying to speak quietly. "Oh and toast please. 2 orders of dry toast,” she said, handing the menu back to the bartender.

“Yes ma’am. Give me a few minutes and I’ll get the orange juice out to you.”

“Oh no, please make it all to go. I am in such a rush this morning,” Reagan said, wincing behind her glasses.

“Oh okay, no problem,” the bartender said, walking away to the back.

Reagan folded her arms on the counter top, laying her head on top and willing the room to stop spinning. She really didn’t drink that much but she felt hungover as shit. Or maybe she had drank a lot – honestly she really didn’t know who drank what last night or how much. She didn’t know what came over her last night and she definitely couldn’t explain why she had invited Michael to stay for a while. She hated that smug bastard. _Yes,_ _she still hated him_ , she thought, even as she argued with herself that she might like a tiny little bit of him. Especially the way he kissed her.

Fuck.

The way he kissed her. Reagan flushed beneath the curtain of her hair, remembering how freely she had opened to him. She sighed loudly into her arms, her head pounding at even that effort.

“How are you this morning, love?” that voice again, right in her ear. Reagan peeked out from under her hair, scowling as he grinned at her from his stool. It was like déjà vu all over again. “Look a bit hungover to me,” Michael said, pushing her hair back off her face and tucking it behind her ear. She instinctively pulled back, the movement too quick for her throbbing head.

 

 

“No thanks to you,” she whispered, making a face and glaring at him as best as she could.

“Hey, girl, you invited me over and I didn’t force you to drink,” Michael said, laughing at her, which served to aggravate her even more. She squinted at him.

“Well you didn’t have to bring the whiskey. You knew I had work this morning,” she argued, knowing full well he wasn’t at fault for her behavior. Michael stared at her, his eyebrow cocked and a smirk on his face. She sighed, laying her head down on her arms again. “You’re right. I am sorry I’m trying to blame you. I knew I shouldn’t have had that much to drink last night, knowing what I had to do today,” Reagan said softly. Michael turned away from her, looking at the menu in front of him as he spoke.

“You’re quite interesting when you drink, love,” he said, a grin in his voice. Reagan stilled, wondering what the hell that meant?

“What does that mean?” she asked, horrified of what may have happened. “Did we- did you –did I?”

“Have sex?” Michael asked, grinning at her expression. “Unfortunately not, love,” he said, sighing in mock regret. Reagan scowled at him again, wanting to punch him.

“You are a disgusting pig.”

“Not what you said last night,” Michael said, still looking at the menu, that smug look back on his face.

“What did I say?” Reagan whispered, her heart thumping in her chest.

“Nothing really. Just that you like me and that I am an asshole and that you wish your fiancé would kiss you like I did,” Michael said, turning to her with a cheeky grin. She wanted to slap him.

“I did not.”

“You did so, love. Was quite shocked myself, actually.”

“I really hate you,” Reagan bit out through clenched teeth. They continued to stare at each other, only stopping when the bartender returned with Reagan’s order.

“No beer this morning?” Michael said, chuckling under his breath.

“Shut up,” Reagan said, taking the order from the bartender with a forced smile. “Pay over there, right?” The bartender barely nodded at her, her eyes solely focused on Michael. Reagan rolled her eyes and slid off the bar stool, taking her things with her and walked to the register. She stood there, glaring at the bartender before calling out, “Excuse me! I am ready to pay!”

Fuck but she didn’t need this aggravation right now, she thought, glancing at her watch quickly.

1033am.

She had no fucking time to do anything. Finally the bartender pulled herself away from Michael and came over to Reagan, her fake smile not reaching her eyes.

“Everything okay, ma’am?” she asked sweetly. Reagan continued to glare at her, shoving her debit card towards the woman.

“Wonderful. Thank you,” Reagan said back, just as sarcastically. She glanced over at Michael, frowning as she saw him staring at her, that stupid grin on his face again. When the bartender handed her the receipt back, she signed her name – no tip – and handed it back, aggravation evident. Without a word, she grabbed her stuff and walked stiffly out the door, turning down the hallway and headed to the elevator. She once again pressed the button numerous times, trying to force it to hurry up. She shook her head as she felt Michael come up beside her.

“God! What is it with you? Can’t you take a hint?” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, frowning as she saw him grinning still, arms crossed across his chest. “Why are you following me?”

“I’m not. My room’s on the same floor as yours,” Michael said, shrugging at her. He was spared her retort as the elevator door opened, and Reagan quickly rushed inside, pushing the 3rd floor button hard. Michael stepped in beside her, not saying a word as she glared at him. He was still fucking grinning.  Bastard.

“I can’t wait for this to be over with,” Reagan hissed under her breath, inching away from him. His presence was overpowering, seemingly filling up the small elevator space and she felt like she was suffocating. She tried not to look at him, to not see the way his t-shirt hugged his broad shoulders and sinewy arms. The way those jeans hung at his hips, that belt around his narrow waist.

Fucking fuck.

The way he smelled.

Damnit.

“We had a good time last night, love,” Michael said, grinning at her through the mirror, chuckling again as she blushed before him.

“Hmph!” Reagan snorted, looking anywhere but at him. The doors opened finally and Reagan rushed out, walking fast – just short of running – to her room. Michael quickly caught up to her, his long legs much faster than her shorter ones. She was fumbling at the door, trying to open it when he came to stand beside her, his shoulder almost touching hers. God the fucking key wouldn’t work!! She kept jamming it in, the light never turning green! She was running out of time and this asshole wouldn’t go away, and she was going to fail at her presentation. She bit her lip as tears of frustration sprang out, cursing him and the door once again. Michael reached over and took the card from her shaking fingers, inserting it in the slot the correct way and opened the door for her. He held it open with one arm as she walked inside. He followed her in, shutting the door and leaning up against the table in the entryway, arms and legs crossed. After dropping her things, Reagan turned on him, hands on hips.

“You need to leave, Michael. I have things to do, and I don’t have any time, especially for-” she gestured at him with her hand, “-this shit, whatever it is.” She sat down on the bed, covering her hands with her face as she tried to calm herself down. “I am going to fail. I am going to fail and it’s all going to be for nothing and I am going to fail,” she whispered, rubbing her temples as she tried to calm herself down. She felt like she was hyperventilating. She felt Michael sit down next to her, let him pull her hands away from her face, and felt him push her hair back behind her ear as he rubbed his thumb against her cheek soothingly.

“You’re going to be great, love. You know this stuff, inside and out. No one knows it better than you,” Michael said, his voice soft and reassuring. Reagan looked at him, doubt in her eyes and he nodded at her. “You are the expert on this, and besides that, you are passionate about it. That matters more than knowing shit. If you love what you are doing, they’ll love it too. Just trust yourself,” he said, smiling at her gently. Reagan sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Okay?” Michael said, continuing to rub her cheek with his thumb.

Reagan nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

“So why don’t you eat really quick, and get dressed, and I’ll walk you downstairs? Help you carry your things?” Michael said gently, and she smiled at him.

“You are supposed to be an asshole. Why are you being nice?” Reagan asked, sniffling again.

“Like I said, you don’t really know me, girl,” Michael replied, standing up and pulling her with him. “Now go eat and get yourself dressed.” Reagan nodded, moving over to the food and wolfing it down as quickly as possible. Michael sat on the bed, flipping through the channels absentmindedly. He finally settled on Dirty Jobs. He sat back against the headboard, tapping on his phone as he waited for her to finish.

“I’ll be right out,” Reagan said, grabbing her things and stepping into the bathroom to finish getting ready. A neat bun, a tiny bit of makeup, and a change of clothes was all she had time for. She stepped out of the bathroom, spritzing some perfume on as she did so. Michael sat up, grinning at her as she came out.

“You win,” he said, winking at her.

“What? Win what?” Reagan asked him, her brow creased in confusion. She leaned down, sorting through her paperwork and taking out what she didn’t need.

“Whatever you want,” he whispered huskily and Reagan looked up at him before quickly looking away, her face heating under his gaze.

“You are such a pervert,” Reagan argued half-heartedly. It been so long since a man had looked at her that way. So long since Kevin had made her blush like that. She frowned, thinking about him again as she looked down at her ring. Michael noticed, standing up and smoothing out his clothes.

“You ready to head down?” he asked, his hands shoved in his pockets. Reagan nodded, and then cocked her head at him.

“I thought you had somewhere to be today?”

“Change of plans,” Michael said, looking away evasively. He wasn’t telling her something, she was sure of it. She stared at him for a moment longer, trying to discern what was going on but he gave nothing away. He walked over and stood in front of her. She leaned back on her heels, staring up at him as she tried to calm her heart that was currently beating out of her chest. When he was this close to her she couldn’t formulate a damn word, much less a coherent thought. He gently grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head back down as he kissed her forehead. “Let’s go, shall we?” He walked away, heading towards the door as she stared at him, dumbfounded and heart beating like crazy. He jerked his head at her as he opened the door, and she quickly grabbed her things, heading out in front of him. Here goes nothing, she thought to herself as she headed down to what could potentially make or break her career. Here goes nothing.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

4pm

Reagan finally walked out of the conference center room, her face splitting with a huge grin. The presentation had gone ten thousand times better than she thought it would have, her peers and colleagues very interested in her proposal and subsequent plans for intervention. Now all that was left was to get the data together and write it up. Sounded simple but that was the laborious part – gathering and interpreting data to prove that her intervention would work. Thankfully she already had most of her data that she needed – it was making sense of it that was going to be hard. Whatever, she smiled again. Nothing was going to ruin her mood today.

She pressed the button on the elevator, juggling her paperwork in her arms as she reached down for her cell phone. She typed in her passcode as she waited for the doors to open. When they finally did, she stepped inside, checking her emails and messages.

She had a text from Michael. For whatever reason, her grin got even wider. She opened up the text.

**Michael: Good luck, not that you need it**

Reagan smiled again, wiggling a bit in excitement. She quickly texted him back, wanting to tell him how it went.

**Reagan: It was perfect! They loved it! I am so damn happy!**

The doors opened to her floor and she stepped out, moving down the hallway to her room. She walked inside, dropping her things on the bed and began stripping off her clothes. She needed to get something comfortable on and this monkey suit wasn’t cutting it for damn sure. She slipped into a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. She pulled her hair out of her tight bun and scooped it up into a messy ponytail as she flopped down on the bed. Her cell phone buzzed and she grabbed it, biting her nail and grinning as she saw it was Michael again.

**Michael: Never had any doubts. What are you doing now?**

**Reagan: Sitting on the bed. Texting you.**

**Michael: Smartass**

**Reagan: I try**

**Michael: I know**

**Michael: Want to get something to eat?**

Reagan hesitated for a moment, indecision weighing on her once again. Kevin momentarily flashed through her mind, and she wondered why she was making the decisions she was. Was she trying to punish him, or make herself feel better, or did she just want to hang out with Michael?

**Michael: ?**

Fuck it. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if she went out to eat with him. Besides, Kevin deserved a taste of his own medicine. Why should she act right when he obviously wasn’t? She slipped her engagement ring off, setting it on the table by the television. Surprisingly she didn’t feel bad. Not one bit.

**Reagan: Sure. You coming to get me or want me to come down?**

She sat up on the bed, slipping her flip-flops back on as a knock came at the door. She walked over, looking out the peephole and her breath caught as she saw Michael standing outside. She opened the door, grinning once again. He grinned back sheepishly.

“My room is right down the hallway,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously and pointing down the hall.

“Of course it is,” Reagan said, smiling up at him. “So you ready?”

“Yeah. Wanna just go downstairs, or did you have something else in mind?” Michael asked, waiting as she closed the door.

“This was your idea, remember? I don’t care where we go but I am starving.” She scooted next to him, linking her arm through his as they walked down the hall towards the elevator. She smiled shyly as he looked down at her, confusion on his face.

‘We’re friends, now?” he asked, bumping her with his shoulder. She bumped him back as they stopped before the elevator, arms still linked.

“I don’t hate you as much,” Reagan said, grinning at him as the doors opened. She released his arm as they stepped inside and Michael pushed the button to go down, grinning at her through the mirror once again. “What?” she asked, shrugging as he shook his head at her.

“I don’t understand you, girl. I really don’t.”

“Don’t try. It’s complicated,” she said, smiling at him through the mirror. Michael reached over and grabbed her hand, looking at her through the mirror as her smile faded somewhat.

“Is this okay?” he asked, holding up their joined hands, eyebrow cocked. Reagan stared at him in the mirror and then looked at their hands, then looked back up at him. She inhaled deeply, relaxing for the first time in a long time, and nodded, her smile returning.

“Yeah. It’s okay,” she said, squeezing his hand a bit and scooting closer to him. Michael’s grin got bigger, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled at her.

“You do like me, huh?” he said, playfully nudging her shoulder once again. She pushed back against him, still smiling.

“Don’t get cocky. I said I don’t hate you as much, not that I like you,” she teased him.

“Not what you said last night, but we’ll not talk about that, right?” Michael said, looking up at the ceiling as he teased her back, staring at her out of the corner of his eye. Reagan gasped, feigning indignity as she looked at him with pursed lips.

"You are still a pig."

"I know," Michael grinned, twisting his hand so that he could lace his fingers through hers. He squeezed her hand again and smiled down at her as she peeked up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she wrestled with her emotions. He squeezed her hand once more, reassuringly, as the elevator doors opened. They headed to the bar, hand in hand, and walked in. Michael quickly maneuvered them to a seat that was as secluded as possible, off to the side and surrounded by foliage. It was the best they could do. Luckily there weren't that many people out - just yet - but there were a few who turned to stare at them on the way in.  Once they were seated, Michael broke the stifling silence that had settled over the table.

"You are not wearing your ring," he said, his hands clasped in front of him. Reagan looked down at her ring-less hand, turning it over and staring at her nails.

"You noticed.." she said nonchalantly.

"I did," Michael replied. "Why?"

Reagan looked up at him, her mouth set in a hard line, her eyes heated.

"Why not? He is not faithful to me so why should I be faithful to him?"

Michael leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Reagan stared at him, tilting her head to the side.

"What?" she asked, wondering what was going through his head.

"It's nothing," he said shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. Reagan rolled her eyes at him, knowing there was something there.

"Tell me. You're thinking something, so tell me," she pushed.

"I hope you don't think I am pushing you either way for us to...you know for us to.." he gestured with his hands at the space between them, "for us to do something you don't want to do."

Reagan laughed now, a hard cynical laugh, and took a drink of her water before replying.

"I am no saint, Michael. Neither is he. If something were to happen between us, it just would. You've not pushed me anywhere." She took another drink of water, her eyes becoming hard again as she muttered, "He did. He did this to us, all on his own." She looked back up at Michael from underneath her lashes, her eyes hooded as she spoke. "If I wanted to do something with a man - any man - that's a decision I would make for myself."

"Hmmm.." Michael said, still rubbing his jaw, regarding her carefully. Reagan laughed at him, but it didn't sound humorous in the slightest.

"Oh god! Relax please. Can we just enjoy the evening? I am leaving tomorrow and I will never see you again, so can we just chill out?" Reagan asked, placing her hands on the table. "No strings attached, no nothing. Let's just eat and whatever happens, happens."

 

Michael stared at her for a moment longer than Reagan thought she could bear. If he only knew what was running through her mind. Where the fuck were these words coming from? She did not speak like this, let alone act like this! She must have lost her damn mind! She knew she was playing with fire, and she knew he would burn her if she let him, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted Kevin to feel exactly what she felt, and there was no better time, place - or man - to show him exactly what that means. She took another sip of her water, wondering if Michael could tell how nervous she felt on the inside. She hoped it didn't show obvious on her face or in her actions, and she clenched her legs together to still the nervous tapping of her feet. She had made up her mind. For once in her boring, straight-laced life she was going to do something outrageous, something that no one would approve of, and quite frankly she didn't give a fuck what anyone thought.  She was 26 years old and had always played by everyone's rules but her own, and look where it got her. A 26 year-old virgin, with a fiance that cheated on her for a year. She sighed in relief as the waitress came back, menus in hand as she asked if they were ready to place their drink orders.

"Guinness, please, on tap," Reagan replied, smiling at Michael. He smiled back, a little wary though, still trying to figure her out.

"I'll have the same," he said, not looking at the waitress. The waitress nodded, writing on her pad as she walked away to get their beers.  Reagan and Michael continued to stare at each other, he trying to figure out what her game was, and she wondering how desperate she appeared. She fidgeted nervously with the napkin, finally breaking eye contact with him. His fucking eyes were so intense, and she literally felt like he could see right through her. He had to know she was a fraud, that she was not as she appeared. He had to know.

He clasped his hands together, using them to prop his chin up as he stared at her, his expression unreadable.

"What?" she asked, her voice a bit higher than normal.

"I can't figure you out, love" Michael said, his face blank.

"Try harder," Reagan whispered, her heart in her throat as she dared him. She was so far out of her element...

Michael leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table as he spoke to her.

"Is that what you want? Me to try harder?" he asked, his voice seductive and his eyes stormy. Reagan's breath caught in her throat as she stared back at him.

"Yes," she whispered again, unable to speak any louder. She could feel her cheeks flaming.  What the fuck was she doing?? This man was the sex-god and she was a virgin! She was definitely playing with fire now, no experience to draw from other than the books and movies she had read and seen. The tiny "make-out" sessions with Kevin were hardly something to base her current behavior off of.

Michael leaned back, hands behind his head as he assessed her, trying to discern the meaning in her words and actions.

 

"You should be careful of what you wish for, love. You just might get it," Michael said, his voice deceptively calm. The implication in those words washed over Reagan like warm honey, seeping into her very core. She squirmed under his heated gaze, feeling like he was stripping her of her clothes as he stared at her.  

"That's the plan," Reagan said, her voice barely above a whisper as Michael's eyes got even more intense at her words. Was that even possible??

She had gone and done it now. She had jumped right into the damn fire with no thought to the consequences.  Michael grinned at her, a predatory grin as he brought his glass of water up to his lips and took a sip. Afterwards he set the water down, his eyes never breaking contact with hers as he leaned forward again. Reagan steeled herself for what was to come.  Mercifully she was saved as the waitress came back with their beers, setting a pint down in front of each of them. Reagan quickly grabbed hers up, taking a large swallow to settle her nerves.

"You guys ready to order?" the waitress asked, looking between the two of them. Reagan's face was blank as she continued nursing her beer, not meeting Michael's eyes.

"Yeah, I'll have the grilled ribeye, medium well, with grilled asparagus and the sauteed spinach and arugula," Michael said, smiling at the waitress as he handed her back the menu. She turned to Reagan, pen at the ready.

"And for you, ma'am?"

Reagan was at a loss for words, meeting Michael's searing eyes once again.

"Ma'am?" she waitress pressed, popping her gum in annoyance.

"Oh...uhh..yeah just give me the same," Reagan mumbled, not caring what she was going to eat when Michael was staring at her _like that._ Fucking fuck fuck fuck.

"Exactly the same?" the waitress asked, jotting down their order.

"Yes," Reagan mumbled again.

"Okay. I'll put this in. Shouldn't be too long, but I'll come back to check on you guys in a moment," the waitress said, shoving her pad in her pocket as she walked back to the kitchen area.  
Reagan took another long swallow, wiping her mouth to get the foam off.  Michael's lips rose almost imperceptibly at the corners, his heated gaze boring a hole through her.

"You alright, love?" Michael asked, his voice calm and steady.

"Of course," Reagan squeaked out, her voice the opposite.

Michael laughed, rubbing his jaw again.

"Of course," Michael repeated her words, and Reagan squirmed underneath his gaze once again. She looked away, unable to take it any longer. She took another long sip of her beer, praying it would hurry up and give her the liquid courage it was supposed to. Lord knows she was going to need it tonight....

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Reagan bit into her steak, eyeing Michael warily. He stared back, his gaze unwavering. She swallowed the bite of meat, praying that it wouldn’t lodge in her throat the way she thought it would.

“So, Reagan, tell me about yourself,” Michael said, taking another sip of his beer. They had barely spoken as they ate, no words other than the polite conversation of two acquaintances. Nothing personal had come up – yet.

“Umm…what do you want to know?” Reagan asked, trying to quell the trembling in her voice. He was on to her – she was sure of it.

“Everything.”

“Everything?” Reagan stammered out, his eyes a stormy blue. He seriously looked like a cat toying with a mouse, with Reagan being said mouse. Fuck.

“Everything,” he nodded, taking another sip and setting his beer down. He propped his chin up in one hand, lazily staring at her as she fidgeted under his gaze.

“Well....I have a brother who is younger than me, parents are divorced, but that’s a good thing. Grew up in a religious household but I am not religious of course,” Reagan rushed out, her face flaming as she did so. What in the fuck? “I am 26 years old and a graduate student at UNT in Denton. Should be done this year. Ummm…what else?” Reagan’s brow furrowed as she stared into her beer, wondering what else to say.

“What about Kevin? Since we are both fairly sober, now would be a good time to talk about him,” Michael said, taking another swig of beer. Reagan choked on hers.

“Kevin?” she squeaked, wiping off her chin.

“Yes. Your fiancé, remember?”

“What’s there to say?” Reagan hedged, not looking at Michael now but instead staring down into her almost empty beer. She needed another one, and fast. She looked up, peering over Michael’s shoulder for the waitress.

“What’s not to say? Engaged for 4 years, you said. You don’t have your ring on today. What gives?” Michael replied, leaning forward and pinning her to her chair with his hard stare. “I don’t fuck around with married – or almost married – women.”

“Well I am neither, so you needn’t worry,” she bit out, glaring at him over her beer. Where was the fucking waitress?

“As of only today. You had the ring on at your presentation this morning, love. Why take it off?”

Reagan sighed wearily, closing her eyes in aggravation. He was a man, she was a woman, and she was practically throwing herself at him and now he wanted to have morals? He was making this so difficult. Or was she doing this all wrong? She had no fucking idea, never having seduced a man before. Certainly never done any of this with the ever chaste, overly straitlaced Kevin. She snorted to herself, thinking what a joke it was to consider Kevin straitlaced, because apparently he was a man-whore. She opened her eyes back up, only to find him still staring at her, his questions needing answers. She mustered up her best poker face.

“He cheated on me. It’s over. I finally realized that when I got away from the situation, when I came here,” Reagan said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear the uncertainty in her voice. She had no idea what she felt for Kevin at the moment. No idea at all.

“It’s over?”

“Over,” Reagan whispered now, flushing again at the heated look in his eyes. Michael leaned back in his chair, raising his arm over his head as he motioned for the waitress. She hurried over, pen and pad at the ready.

“We need our check, please,” Michael said quietly, his voice gruff. He continued to stare at Reagan, only looking away to pull out his credit card and hand it to the waitress. Reagan picked up her beer and swallowed the last of it, nearly choking herself in the process.

“I’ll be right back, sir,” the waitress said, not getting a reply from Michael. She quickly walked away to take care of the ticket.

“You sure about this, Reagan?” Michael asked, his voice a low rumble in his chest. She felt desire pool in her belly as her name rolled off his tongue, fear and excitement and anxiety coursing through her body. Ready or not, she was going to do this. She nodded her head, unable to speak or say anything coherent at the moment. The waitress came back, ticket in hand, and handed it to Michael. He hastily scribbled his name across the bottom and handed it back to the waitress.

“Thank you,” Michael said to the waitress, standing up and dismissing her - all at the same time. He reached over to Reagan, holding his hand out for her to take. She quickly stood up – a little too quickly - as her head started spinning. She took a deep breath, placing her smaller hand in his much larger one, feeling that heat shoot straight to her belly as his long fingers enveloped hers. He pulled her along behind him, walking briskly towards the elevator. He pressed the button once, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he waited for the doors to open. When they finally did, he stepped inside, pulling her with him, and pressed the button for the 3rd floor. As soon as the doors closed he turned to her, pushing her up against the elevator wall as his lips came crashing down on hers. Reagan clutched at his shoulders, unsure of what to do as he plundered her mouth. Michael pushed his knee in between her legs, rubbing at her core, and she moaned into his mouth, running her hands up to his hair and pulling him closer.

They were interrupted by the doors opening on the second floor, an older couple staring at them in shock. Reagan looked over Michael’s shoulder, her face flaming with embarrassment as the couple shuffled in. She pushed at Michael, pushing him off of her as the doors closed again. He turned around unsteadily, but immediately regained his composure – unlike Reagan.

“I am so sorry!” she mumbled to the older couple, trying to right her clothing and swiping at her hair. The older couple stared straight ahead, their lips pursed together and doing their best to ignore Reagan and Michael. Embarrassed as fuck, Reagan moved to stand behind Michael, burying her face in his back and she felt the chuckle rumble in his chest.

Asshole.

When the doors once again opened, finally on the 3rd floor, Michael stepped around the elderly couple, pulling Reagan along behind him. He stopped at her door and turned to her.

“Your room or mine?” he asked her, his voice brusque.

“I….I mean…..whatever you want, Michael,” she stuttered, her heart pounding in her chest. Did it matter?

“Do you have protection?” Michael asked bluntly, his eyes boring into hers. Reagan frowned in confusion.

“What? I don’t-” she began, only to be cut off as he dragged her down to his room. It really was at the end of the hall, and when the door opened she saw that it was substantially larger than hers. He pulled her inside, shutting and locking the door behind them as he dropped his things on the entryway table. Reagan walked into the room, taking in the spacious living area that that was flanked by a kitchen on one side and what she presumed was a bedroom on the other side. Michael came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her to him. She felt him – felt his arousal – pressed against her lower back and felt a moment of panic, doubt setting in. Michael moved her hair aside and pressed his lips to her neck, kissing along the way to her ear. He nipped at her ear, and Reagan felt her knees nearly buckle. She grasped at Michael’s arms, needing him to support her. He turned her around, looping her arms around his neck as he lifted her below her knees and wrapped her legs around his waist. Reagan gripped him tightly, burying her face in his neck as he carried her to the bedroom, trying to hide her heated face and calm her fears. There was no turning back now, she thought, trying to remember to breathe as he deposited her on the bed.

“We need to hurry, love,” Michael said hoarsely, stripping off his shirt as he grabbed something – A CONDOM?? – out of the dresser drawer. Reagan stared at his hard chest, all sinewy and muscles, a light smattering of reddish-brown chest hair on his sternum as he came back to her. She needed to breathe, she told herself. She needed to breathe or she was going to pass out. Just breathe, Reagan, just breathe, she chanted internally, scooting back as Michael crawled on the bed and up to her. He pulled her shoes off, tossing them haphazardly on the floor, not caring where they landed as he continued crawling up her body. He pushed her back down against the bed, his hand on her neck as he kissed her. He pushed his tongue in her mouth and Reagan opened up, taking his tongue and tangling it with hers. He bit at her lips, teeth clinking as the he plundered her mouth. God she was going to pass out, she just knew it. She ran her hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his biceps and triceps, the veins sticking out with the exertion. Michael reached down, pulling her t-shirt up and Reagan stilled momentarily. Michael pulled back, staring down at her, hesitating, his eyes searching hers.

“Reagan?”

She bit her lower lip, her brain going a hundred miles an hour as she thought about what she was doing. She was about to have sex – with Michael Fassbender of all people – and it was her first time.

Ever.

She looked up at Michael staring down at her, his blue eyes turbulent as he waited. She nodded again, reaching up and pulling his face back down to hers. She kissed him softly, and he nipped her lower lip, pulling back once again to stare down at her.

“Are you sure, love? We can stop,” Michael said, his voice gravelly. Reagan shook her head at him, leaning up and kissing him again, urging him on. She reached down, pulling her shirt up as she helped him remove it. When he pulled it over her head, she lay back down, self-consciously looking away as she lay there in her boring, white bra. Fuck. She could have worn something better, something sexy! Michael traced his fingertip over the edge of her bra, causing her body to break out in goose bumps.

“You are so fucking sexy, Reagan. Had no idea these were hidden under those baggy t-shirts,” he murmured, leaning his head down and kissing the bare skin above her bra. Reagan felt a rush of wetness pool between her legs, his breath on her skin igniting a fire within her. She moved restlessly against him, her body moving of its’ own accord as she sought the release she desperately needed. Michael reached down, sliding his hands down her belly and to the button of her jeans, undoing them and pulling down the zipper. He leaned up, sitting back on his heels and quickly pulled her jeans off and tossed them on the floor with the other things. He crawled back up her body once again, trailing his hands along her thigh and back up to her waist. Reagan flushed under his gaze, his eyes traveling down the length of her body as his hands followed. He moved his hand down to her panties, dipping inside and sliding down to cup her, his fingers sliding in between her folds. He growled, pulling back and looking at her in disbelief.

“Fuck, Reagan! You are dripping, sweetheart.”

Reagan felt her cheeks flush again, and she covered her face with her hands, turning her head to the side to avoid his heated gaze. Michael removed his hand and reached up, pulling her hands off her face as he forced her to look at him. Reagan stared at him, eyes as big as saucers in her face as she watched him pop two fingers in his mouth, sucking on the wetness that she had left behind on his fingers.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, love. You taste as delicious as you feel,” Michael said, licking his fingers once more as he sat up and began removing his jeans. “Just means I need to move quicker.”

He pulled his jeans off and Reagan forced herself to look away from his erection, the giant bulge in boxers obvious. When he pulled his boxers off, she completely looked away and closed her eyes, knowing she was going to freak the fuck out if she looked. Don’t look, Reagan, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look…she kept repeating to herself, eyes closed as she felt him pull her panties off and spread her legs. She heard the sound of something ripping – the condom?? – and then felt Michael maneuver himself between her thighs, his cock pressed against her inner thigh. He reached behind her, undoing her bra and removed it, and the next thing she felt was his hard chest pressed against her aching breasts, his hands at her ass and thigh, pulling her closer to him. She was going to burst into flames, she could feel it. Just his touch alone was doing her in, his body pressed against hers too much. Michael kissed her chest, her neck, and then moved up to her jaw, running his lips along her jawline as he maneuvered himself at her entrance. She felt him push in, heard him grunt as he rested his forehead against hers as he kept going. Reagan clenched her eyes shut tightly, wincing at the pain she felt. He was so big and so invasive, she felt like she was literally being impaled, his cock stretching her. She grasped at his shoulders, and Michael, taking it to mean she wanted more, pushed himself in fully, burying himself to the hilt inside Reagan. Reagan whimpered, biting the inside of her mouth to keep from crying out. Michael pushed himself up on his forearms, looking down at Reagan in shock and surprise, his forehead creasing even more as he saw the tears seeping out from her tightly clenched eyes.

“Reagan?” he whispered, not daring to move inside her. He was throbbing and it was taking everything in him not to move – fuck she was tight – but he didn’t dare move. “Reagan, look at me, love. Look at me.”

Reagan opened her eyes just barely, looking up at him as another tear escaped, running down the side of her face and rolling into her ear. She continued to bite her lip, her body tensed up as she tried to accommodate him buried so deep inside her. Right now she didn’t know what she was feeling, but it definitely wasn’t what she imagined, that was for sure. Her watery brown eyes met his stormy blue eyes, confusion and disbelief written all over his face. He was on to her now, Reagan thought, dreading what was to come when he found out she had tricked him.

“Is this your first time, Reagan?” Michael asked, reaching over and brushing a tear off her cheek before it rolled down. Reagan stared at him, blinking rapidly, unsure of what to say.

“Is it?” Michael asked again, his tone compassionate now. Reagan nodded her head, closing her eyes again in shame.

“Why?” Michael asked, drawing her eyes open and back to him. He was still there, still buried, and still throbbing inside her. The pain was subsiding and now she was beginning to feel a fullness, one that almost felt good but she couldn’t quite tell. She was too afraid to move, to see what it might feel like if she did. Her body clenched involuntarily around Michael, causing him to wince and flatten his mouth. “Fuck!” he hissed out, closing his eyes against her movements.

"I’m sorry,” Reagan whispered, tears springing anew at his expletive. Michael’s eye flew open, meeting hers and he grinned at her, a pained grin, but a grin nonetheless.

“Don’t apologize about that, girl. You’re perfect,” Michael said, leaning down and kissing her softly on her eyelids. “Tell me why you led me to believe that you had…done _this_ before.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think I was crazy, or weird, or whatever,” she mumbled, looking down at the base of his neck. “I am sorry, Michael,” she said, looking up at him now. ‘I’ve never done this before – obviously – and I wanted to and….well…look I’m sorry. If you want to quit…or whatever…then I…I understand.” She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the next wave of tears at bay. Michael smiled down at her.

“I don’t want to stop. Do you?” he asked, running his forefinger down the edge of her jaw. Reagan shook her head vehemently, eliciting a chuckle from Michael. “Does it hurt still?” he asked, his voice soft with concern.

“No,” Reagan said, shifting a bit under him, her eyes widening as she realized that indeed it did not hurt. Not only did it not hurt, but it actually felt pretty good. She shifted again, letting her legs fall out to the side as she wiggled under him. She could feel a delicious ache between her legs, something deep inside begging for attention. Michael shifted a bit, moving his hips against her slightly, watching for any sign of discomfort on her part. Reagan closed her eyes, biting her lower lip.

“Do that again, please,” she whispered, her eyes closed still as she moved against him. Fuck but it was starting to feel good. Really good.

“Do what?” Michael asked, pushing against her, the area right above where they were joined rubbing against her clit, and Reagan moaned. “This?” Michael asked, moving again, swiveling his hips slightly as he ground against her. He continued moving slowly, concentrating all his efforts on her pleasure, gritting his teeth as he held his own release at bay.

“Oh god! Yes please!” Reagan whined, her fingernails clawing at his shoulders. “Do that….do that again…Mich- oh god! Michael!” Reagan whimpered, her legs trembling at his sides. She clutched at him, her fingernails leaving half-moons where she dug them into his skin. Michael moved one hand over her breast, gently rolling her nipple between his fingers as he kissed her jaw. He could feel her coming undone from the inside out, her body clenching at him as her legs started shaking uncontrollably. He picked up the pace, thrusting more forcefully into her, rubbing her nipple a little harder as he pushed them both towards their climax.

“Oh…hmmm….oh god Michael…oh god…please Michael…” Reagan moaned, pulling at his hair, at his back, anything to get him closer. He ran his thumb over her nipple once more, the taut peak straining at his finger, and Reagan let go, screaming his name. He kissed her hard, absorbing her cries, slamming into her as he found his own release. He growled low, moving his head to her neck as he pumped into her, her body pulling at him and squeezing him tight. Michael thrust a few more times, his body completely spent as he came to a slow halt. He felt Reagan running her hands through his hair, her nails lightly scratching at his scalp as he floated back down from his high. Breathing heavy, he leaned up on his forearms and stared down at her. Reagan was gazing back up at him in wonder, her face and chest flushed.

“You alright, love?” he asked, nuzzling her nose with his. She shyly smiled up at him, looking at him from beneath her lashes.

“Better than alright. I think I am dead,” Reagan whispered, nuzzling him back. "Can we do it again?"

Michael blinked down at her in surprise, a toothy grin spreading out over his face as she smiled back up at him.

"I am old man, love. Got to give me some time to recuperate, but I am definitely up for round two," he said, winking at her before kissing her on the tip of her nose. "Let me run to the bathroom, right?"  Michael pulled out of her slowly, both wincing as he did so. He watched Reagan's face, his eyebrows drawing together as he saw her discomfort. "You alright?" he asked, standing up and pulling the condom off discreetly and tossing it in the trash can. Reagan nodded, pulling the sheet up around her shoulders as she turned on her side, watching him with hooded eyes.

"I'm good," she said, her voice low. With another frown, Michael reluctantly left, heading to the bathroom quickly before he pissed all over himself. When he was done, he went back out to the bed and lay down next to Reagan. She was sleeping, her breathing even, and her beautiful eyelashes resting against her flushed cheeks. Michael smiled, pushing back an errant brunette curl and tucking it behind her ear.  She was beautiful awake but in sleep she looked absolutely angelic, her full cheeks and button nose that completed her small, heart-shaped face. Michael kissed her temple softly before laying down on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He didn't know what to make of the situation he found himself in with Reagan. He thrummed his fingers against his chest as he thought about all that transpired between the two of them in the past few days. Going from hating each other to having arguably the best sex he had ever had - and with a virgin no less. He frowned now, that little tidbit worrying him. She was engaged - _well was earlier_ \- and still a virgin at 26 years old. Not unheard of, but not common either. A fact that she had tried to hide that from him. Why?  That was the question that he needed an answer to and they were quickly running out of their time together. Michael sighed, reaching over to his phone and looking at the time. It was only a little after 6pm, so still early. He set his alarm on his phone for 9am just in case he forgot to do it later. He set his phone down and grabbed the remote, turning on the television and muting it, staring at it absentmindedly as his thoughts swirled around in confusion at the girl laying in bed next to him.


	8. Chapter 8

Reagan woke up some time later, feeling like she couldn’t breathe. She moved her hands to her chest, feeling the heavy arm that was draped across her ribs. She turned her head and her breath caught, seeing Michael sleeping next to her, his breathing deep and even in his sleep. Fuck but she had done it now. She groaned inwardly, thinking about what had happened a few hours ago. She didn’t know how to feel right now. One part of her was incredibly happy at what had happened, her eyes having been opened to all the things she had been missing. The other part of her was feeling overwhelming guilt, and she had no fucking idea why. Kevin had cheated on her for over a year, and now she was feeling guilty? Either way, she knew she had made a definitive decision in her relationship with Kevin – he would never forgive her once he found out about what she had done. Reagan blinked back tears, not even knowing why she was crying. She needed to get up. She needed to fucking get up right now and go to the bathroom where she could break down in peace. She moved as slowly as possible, trying to move Michael’s arm off her without waking him. She slowly maneuvered herself out from under him and slid off the bed, grabbing her clothes and moving quietly to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and locked it before turning on the fan for added noise.

She walked over to the mirror and stared at her reflection, another wave of guilt washing over her. She could see marks where Michael had sucked a little too hard, and she was chafed where his stubble had rubbed her too much. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were still flushed – or chafed – she did not know which. Her eyes traveled down her waist and her breath caught as she stared at her thighs. There was blood smeared on her inner thigh, the proof of what she had done plain for her to see. She covered her mouth, feeling sick in her stomach as she quickly walked to the shower and turned it on. She had to get this stuff off of her, she had to get clean! She stepped in the shower, the not-quite hot water hitting her body and setting her teeth to chattering. She grabbed the body wash that Michael had in the shower and squirted it in her hand, vigorously rubbing at her thighs. She then pulled the rag off the shower head, using it to continue and try to scrub the blood away. She squirted more body wash onto the rag, again scrubbing at her thighs and between her legs. She had to get clean. She was frantic, her tears flowing as she sobbed. He would never forgive her for this. Even if there was a chance for them – for she and Kevin – he would never forgive her once he learned of this. Never. Her sobs wracked her body and she tried to quiet them, balling up her fist and shoving it between her teeth in an effort to keep silent. She slid down the shower wall, coming to rest on her bottom as the water pelted her.

She had slept with Michael. She wasn’t drunk when she did it – a little buzzed – but not drunk. She knew what she was doing and she had done it anyway. She had goaded him into it even, pretending to be something she wasn’t – experienced – and Michael had taken the bait. Now here she was, no longer a virgin and crying in his shower while Michael lay on the bed asleep. A sob escaped again, and she bit on her hand once more. She was startled when a knock came at the door.

“Reagan? You alright, love?” Michael called from the other side of the door. Reagan swiped at her face, standing up and letting the water run over her once again.

“Umm..yeah…I’m fine. Just wanted to get a shower,” she replied, hoping the water would calm her red cheeks down. The last thing she needed was questions from Michael. Even now she felt guilty for his concern over her. Fuck but she had screwed up!!

“Can I join you, then?” Michael called out again and Reagan froze. Oh god!

“Umm…no… I am already done. Just give me a minute, okay?” she called out again, trying to steady her voice. She needed to get dressed and get out of her as quick as possible. She shut the water off, stepping out of the shower and grabbing the towel off the rack. She rubbed it over her body, flushing when she realized it smelled like Michael. The body wash, the towel – everything smelled like him! She dropped the towel like it was on fire, quickly scooping up her clothes and getting dressed. Once finished, she hesitantly opened the door, jumping when she saw Michael standing there, his shoulder propped against the door frame. He was staring at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised in question.

“You alright, girl?” he asked again, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he stared at her.

Reagan nodded a little too forcefully and Michael regarded her again, both brows drawn together now.

“I don’t think so. Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, reaching for her hand. She jerked away from him, eyeing him warily as she walked over to the bedside table and grabbed her phone. Michael leaned back, her actions surprising him as he continued to stare at her.

“I have to go, Michael,” she said, trying to sound apologetic. She walked by him, quickly moving towards the door. He grabbed her hand now, holding her even as she fought against him.

“Really? You are really going to just walk out that door after what happened a few hours ago?” Michael asked her, his voice having a hard edge to it now. Reagan flinched, fear rising in the back of her throat with a sick, acidic taste.

“I have to go, Michael. I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Please let me go, okay?” she whispered, afraid of what might happen next. Michael continued holding her hand, staring down at her, his expression inscrutable. Reagan trembled underneath his gaze, her palms sweaty. “I made a mistake and I am so sorry. Please let me go.”

Michael blinked a few time, and she saw his jaw harden as he dropped her hand. He laughed now, a bitter laugh that made Reagan once again feel sick to her stomach.

“I knew it. I fucking knew it,” he said, wiping his hands across his mouth in anger. “You were just fucking around to get back at your guy, weren’t you?” He walked away from her, hands on slim hips as he paced. Reagan held her hands up in apology, trying to calm the situation down.

“That’s not what happened, Mic-” she began, only to be interrupted. He turned on her, his brows drawn together in anger.

“Really? Because that’s what it sounds like to me. Your phone’s been buzzing all evening,” he said, gesturing to her hand. “Is that Kevin? Why don’t you call him, tell him what you’ve been doing?” Michael sneered at her.

Reagan backed away from him, moving towards the door once again.

“I am so sorry, Michael,” she said, hand on the door knob. He stared at her, his gaze unwavering as she opened the door. She could see the muscle in his jaw and forehead ticking, his barely controlled fury just below the surface. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I-”

“Get the fuck out of my room. This was a waste of your time and especially mine, not even a good fuck,” he said, his voice level as he looked at her in disgust. “I can see why you were still a virgin, a fucking cock-tease you are. I could’ve done better jerking off with my hand.”

Reagan gasped, his words knocking the wind out of her as the tears started to fall.

“Get the fuck out of my room,” Michael said again, quietly enunciating every word for effect. When she didn’t move, he started advancing towards her. “Now.”

Reagan pulled the door open fully, scooting out just in time for him to slam the door on her. She sucked in a deep breath, once again feeling sick to her stomach as she stared at the closed door. She heard the door lock, the finality of that sound resonating deep within her. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself together as best as she could and walked down the hall to her room.


	9. Chapter 9

Michael slammed his fist into the door, cursing at the pain that followed. He walked over to the bar, shaking his hand in pain, closing and opening his hand in an effort to stop the aching that was already setting in. Reaching for the whiskey, he poured himself a small glass and sat down in the chair, staring out the window as his thoughts raced. How in the fuck did he of all people get used like that? And by an inexperienced virgin no less! Was he that clueless, or jaded, or what the fuck?

Despite all that, and even though he was still pissed at her, he already regretted the words he had said to her in his anger. He remembered the look that crossed her face when he told her what he thought of her love-making skills. He winced, thinking what a dick he was. Why was he so affected by this girl, even now? Was it because of his pride? The idea that he was some kind of rebound, or a way to make that shitty fiancé of hers jealous? Fuck…

Or was it the fact that Reagan had beguiled him, her innocence enamoring him immediately. The way she had responded to him, the way she had trusted him with her body had been something he had never experienced before. He had laid there next to her, watching her sleep for the longest time before finally drifting off next to her. She was no casual fuck for him - that was for sure, despite the words he had thrown at her. She would have had him chasing after her all over the country had she not just revealed what she did. Just a crook of her tiny finger in his direction and he would jump. He took another swallow of his whiskey, the liquid burning as it made its way down his throat.

Yeah she had sucked him in right quickly, her attitude when they first met and the way she had been so pissed at him. He couldn’t recall a female ever being that pissed at him before. He smiled, thinking about how embarrassed she was when he told her he knew about her stories. He should have let it go then, he knew it now. When she got up to go to the bathroom, he should have never dug through her papers and then he would have never known where she was staying. As it was, he had already rearranged half his schedule just to be where she was, from the hotel to the flights. Much to the chagrin of his manager, he thought wryly to himself.

He chuckled again, thinking that he should have never paid for her damn ticket either, that he wouldn’t be in this mess now if he hadn’t. He remembered watching her from afar, her argument with the airline representative drawing his attention. It was the t-shirt that drew him in originally, the same one he had on. He remembered thinking how cute she looked in it, her too baggy jeans and black and white Chuck Taylor’s finishing up her attire. He would have never pegged her for a PhD student, that was for sure. She looked like a young girl backpacking across Europe, not an accomplished student, what with her unruly brunette curls attempting to break free from the band that held it in a low pony-tail. Michael swirled the liquid around in his glass again, taking another long sip as he stared out at the lights below in the city of Tampa.

He stood up, walking over to the window, staring down at the cars moving below as he contemplated his next move. Even though he had kicked her out - and rightfully so - he knew he wasn’t done with her yet. He took another swallow, tossing the whole thing back as he smiled to himself. She was going to shit bricks when she realized he was flying back with her in the morning. He had rearranged the flight this morning after she had gone to her presentation, ensuring that they were once again sitting together on the way back to Dallas. Yeah, she was in for a rude awakening for sure if she thought this thing between them was over that quickly.

He walked back over to the bed, flicking on the bedside lamp and sat down to look at his phone. It was nearly 2am. The flight was leaving at 11am, so he had a few hours to get some sleep and compose himself for tomorrow. He was making sure his alarm was still set for 9am when something on the floor by the end of the bed caught his eye. He leaned over, picking up the small scrap of fabric. It was her panties, the ones he had pulled off of her in his haste. He smiled again, thinking how good it felt to be buried inside her, her tight, little body wrapped snugly around him. He leaned over and set the panties on the table next to his phone before lying back down on the bed. He would give those back to her on the flight. She’s going to love that, he thought to himself, a grin on his face as he tried to get some sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Down the hall, Reagan sat on her bed, staring at her phone and the text messages there. Yes, Kevin had been texting her – and calling her-she had missed them. Texts asking if she was okay, if she was still thinking about him, if she wanted to give him another chance. The voicemails had gotten progressively worse, more aggravation in each missed call. When Kevin got aggravated like that Reagan tended to stay out of his way, to try to not anger him anymore. Kevin had never really hurt her in a domestic violence sort of way , although there had been a push here or there, and a few times he had grabbed her arm, and that one time when it had gotten really bad and he had actually slapped her, but she knew she had goaded him into that one so she really couldn’t fault him. And he always made it up to her, always apologized to her and they always made up. Kevin was a good guy – he just had a bad temper, as her mother would say. “Just don’t anger him, Reagan. Never give him a reason to be mad at you,” her mother would advise her when she caught the bruises on Reagan’s arms that one time. That’s what her mother had always done with Reagan’s dad. As long as she didn’t make him mad, everything was good in the house. Reagan’s phone rang again, jarring her out of her thoughts. Kevin calling once again. She hesitated briefly, knowing it was so late and he would be so pissed at her when she answered. She swallowed, trying to regain her composure and pushed the button to answer the phone.

“Hello?” she said, her voice just barely trembling.

“What the fuck, Reagan? I have been calling you all evening. It’s after 2am and you’re just now answering?” Kevin said, his voice deceptively calm. She knew that tone well and it was not a good one. Reagan could feel her heart start thumping in her chest, her anxiety levels rising.

“I…I’m sorry Kevin, I…was…I was working and then I guess the phone died or something. I didn’t know I had missed your calls. I have been in my room all night, though,” she replied, the lie slipping off her tongue as her hands shook in fear. He would never forgive her and he would be so pissed. She knew it. 

“I don’t believe you, Reagan. You see, this shit here is why we aren’t already married. I don’t trust you, and you repeatedly give me reasons to not trust you,” Kevin ground out and Reagan could tell he had been drinking. 

“Kevin…I am sorry. I am. I have been in my room all night, and that’s the truth. I went to my conference and straight up to my room. I swear that’s what I did,” Reagan whispered, her voice betraying her. 

“I know you are lying, but don’t worry. We’ll discuss that when you get home,” Kevin said, hanging up the phone on her. 

Reagan let out the breath she had been holding, blinking back at the tears that were now freely flowing. She stared at the phone in her lap, fear gripping her like a cold vice. He was so pissed. She knew it, she could hear it in his voice. If he ever found out what she did it would be even worse. She needed to call her mother and get advice, or someone. She needed to call someone. She dialed her mother’s number and it rang repeatedly. She sighed in frustration as no one answered. The only other person she could call anytime of the day was her friend, Mia, but she didn’t know if she was up for that argument. Mia didn’t like Kevin – hated would be an appropriate word for her friend’s feelings toward Kevin, and Reagan always felt trapped in the middle. This was an emergency, though, and Reagan couldn’t call her brother and her mother wasn’t answering, so Mia it was. She dialed the number, scooting back on the bad and against the headboard as she waited.

“Hello?” Mia mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“It’s me,” Reagan whispered, her voice trembling. 

“What’s that asshole done now? Reggie, are you alright?” Mia asked harshly, sounding like she had quickly woken up.

“It’s fine, he’s done nothing, Mia,” Reagan said, tears flowing once again. “I did something stupid and everything is just gone to shit, and I don’t know what to do right now.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, Reggie,” Mia said, her voice softer now. “Where are you and why are you calling me at….243 in the morning?”

“Okay let me start from the beginning and don’t say anything okay? Let me finish before you start anything, alright?” 

“No promises, but I’ll try,” Mia replied.

“Okay so I just found out that Kevin has been cheating on me and-”

“That son-of-a-bitch! I knew it!” Mia practically shouted, anger in her voice. “Why do you put up with his shit, Reggie?”

“Okay see that’s what I was talking about. Can I finish please?” Reagan asked impatiently.

“Whatever,” Mia flippantly replied.

“Okay so anyways, yes he cheated. We were working on it, deciding to stay together or whatever. I went to my conference down here in Tampa – where I am at now – and somewhere in the middle of all that I slept with someone. Someone who isn’t Kevin,” Reagan rushed out, her heart thumping in her chest. 

“Really?! That’s what you should have done all along. That’s what he gets. Reagan he is an asshole, when are you going to learn? He is not good for you and-”

“That’s not what I am asking, Mia. Whatever you think about Kevin, it is my choice and I want to work it out with him. I think. But he just called me and he’s very angry with me. I missed his calls and he’s very angry. What should I do?”

“What should you do? Do you really want me to answer that?” Mia asked sarcastically.

“Yes. I am scared and I don’t think he’ll take me back.” Reagan whispered, wiping at her tears again.

“Reggie, we have been friends for a long time, right?”

“Yes,” Reagan replied.

“And you trust me, right? You know that I love you like a sister, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you listen to me right now and know that I am saying this because I love you and I can’t stand to see you hurt. Kevin is a fucking asshole. I cannot understand how someone with your level of education – with your fucking degree – can’t see that he is a horrible man. I know he hits you, Reggie. I have seen the bruises. He hasn’t slept with you since you guys have met. Why do you think that is? He can fuck around and it’s okay, right? Why do you sell yourself so short, Reggie? You are worth so much more,” Mia said, her voice sounding sad now.

“You don’t know him like I do, Mia. If I hadn’t made him mad those times then he would have-”

“He would have what, Reggie? Never hit you? Do you even hear yourself talking right now? I don’t get what his hold is over you, I really don’t.”

Reagan started crying again, fresh tears that wracked her body.

“And you’re crying again. I hate this, Reggie. I hate what he has done to you. You don’t need him. End it with him and move on, find someone new. This cheating was your wake-up call. Can’t you see that?” Mia implored her friend as Reagan sat there, her tears continuing to fall. 

“You don’t need him, Reggie. When you get back, don’t tell him what you did because we both know what he’ll do. Just end it. Why don’t you just end it?” Mia continued. 

“I don’t know why,” Reagan whispered, really not having an answer. Everything in her screamed to end it with him, but for whatever reason, however twisted it was, he had his claws in her.

“When are you coming back?” Mia asked.

“Tomorrow. I think I’ll get back in Dallas around 530 or so.”

“Want me to pick you up?” 

“No. I think Kevin may be there and…well you know…” Reagan trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“And he thinks I am a bitch because I tell you to dump his violent, controlling ass?”

Reagan laughed bitterly, knowing Mia was speaking the truth.

“Okay I won’t come, but you’ll call me when you get here and let me know you’re alright?” Mia asked, her voice concerned again.

“Yeah, I’ll call,” Reagan replied.

“And you’ll call if he hits you or if something else happens, right?” Mia asked, her voice adamant. 

“Yes, I’ll call if anything happens.”

“Okay before you go, tell me about this guy you slept with…” Mia giggled a little as she changed the subject, and Reagan could feel her mood lightening a bit with humor.

“What do you want to know?” Reagan dodged, smiling a bit now.

“Well duh! Everything! How it happened, who it was, what it was like – all of it! Tell me, Reggie!” Mia laughed and Reagan laughed again with her.

“I’ll tell you all that later, but I will say this much – it was perfect and he was perfect and it was better than I ever thought it would be. He’s a nice guy and I treated him badly. I lied to him about being a virgin,” Reagan said, embarrassment heavy in her voice.

“You didn’t tell him before hand? Oh wow! You little hooker!” Mia teased and Reagan flushed, flashbacks of her time with Michael flashing through her mind. “You know I am kidding! I have been telling you forever to do that. Who was he? A colleague? Someone I know?”

“No, no one you know,” Reagan hedged, not willing to divulge that information just yet. “Look, I’ll tell you about it later, okay? I need to get some rest. My flight leaves at 1100 tomorrow so I need to try to get some sleep.”

"Okay. You call me as soon as you get in and call me after Kevin is gone so I can make sure you are alright, you hear? If you don't I will come by and check on you," Mia ordered.

"I know you will, and I'll call as soon as I can," Reagan replied.

"Okay talk to you in a few, love you girl."

"Love you too. Talk to you later," Reagan replied, hanging up the phone and staring at the blank screen for a moment longer as she struggled to calm her fears. She didn't want to admit to Mia but she was terrified to face Kevin tomorrow. Absolutely terrified.


	11. Chapter 11

Reagan was sitting in her seat – next to the window this time – when Michael plopped down next to her. She glanced up briefly, and then snapped her head up again, staring at him in horror. He grinned back at her.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, shrinking back into her seat as she stared at him.

“Isn’t it obvious? I'm flying,” Michael replied, his tone that of someone speaking to a child. He busied himself with removing his jacket and Reagan was momentarily stunned, his t-shirt accentuating all those lines of his chest that she had touched just a few hours ago. His lips on her skin, his hands – God his hands! – and that smell that was distinctly Michael. She blinked a few times, only then realizing that he was still talking to her. She felt her face flame under his gaze, his eyes watching her humorously. He knew what she was doing, the asshole.

“I asked how your evening was? I mean, after you left so expeditiously,” Michael asked, his tone deadpan. Reagan looked ahead at the back of the seat, trying to calm her nerves.

“My evening was fine,” she replied, angrily clenching her teeth in annoyance.

“You left something in my room last night,” Michael replied, reaching in his front pocket and pulling out something. Reagan looked down and looked back up again, staring at him in horror once again. “Did you miss these?” He held her panties out to her, not bothering to be discreet about it.  Reagan snatched them out of his hand, shoving them in her backpack as her face went up in flames once again.

“You are such a bastard,” she whispered furiously.

“Not what you said last night,” he shot back.

“I hate you. I can’t believe I ever….did what I did…with someone like you!” she hissed, looking away from him and out the window.

“Well you did, love. The proof was on my sheets this morning,” Michael said quietly, his gravelly voice right in her ear.

Reagan gasped as she turned to look at him in disbelief, not knowing if it was possible to be any more embarrassed than she was now. She bit her lip as she fought against the tears of anger and frustration that were threatening to fall. She turned her head back to the window, hiding her face from him as much as possible and wiped at the corner of her eyes. She felt Michael scoot back away from her, resuming his place in his seat and she continued to look out the window. A sniffle escaped and she quickly wiped at her face once again, her cheeks heated with anger and fresh tears. Michael said nothing as he buckled his seat belt. She was doing the same when her phone rang. It was Kevin. She frantically pressed the answer button, trying to calm her voice as she held the phone up to her ear.

“He-hello?” she said quietly into the speaker.

“Where the fuck are you?” Kevin practically yelled in her ear.

“I’m on the plane, Kevin,” she whispered, her heart beating in her chest.

“What time are you going to be here?” he yelled again, and she closed her eyes against the sound. He was so pissed off.

“I think around 530? I’m not-” she began, only to be interrupted.

“How the fuck do you not know when your flight will arrive? Don’t you fucking read the itinerary?”Kevin demanded.

Reagan nodded her head, trying to calm her shaking hands as she held onto the phone.

“It’s 530, I am sure of it.”

“It better be or you’ll take a fucking cab. I am not waiting,” he said, his voice getting calmer now.

“Okay Kevin, I’ll call you once I get in,” Reagan whispered again, her face pale with anxiety.

Kevin hung up on her, just like last night, and Reagan let out the breath she had been holding. She shakily placed her phone on her lap, staring down at it when she realized Michael was looking at her curiously. He said nothing for a few moments as the plane took off. When the all clear was given and passengers started milling about, Michael took his opportunity to speak to her.

“That was Kevin, then?” he asked, his voice hard. Reagan nodded, unable to speak. “He sounds like a nice guy,” Michael said sarcastically, and Reagan turned to look at him, wanting to explain Kevin but Michael wouldn’t let her. “Is he always that way?”

“It’s not what you think-” Reagan began, only to be interrupted again.

“Look at you, Reagan. Your hands are shaking and you're pale as a ghost. Just from a phone call from that asshole fiancé of yours. What did he do to you?” Michael asked her, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

Reagan looked at him helplessly as she shook her head, not knowing what to say. How could she explain it when she didn't even know why herself? She leaned down, reaching for her bag under her seat, hoping to find something that would knock her out. Benadryl maybe…

“What’s that on your arm, love?” Michael asked, gripping her forearm lightly and pulling up her sleeve. He could see the tell-tale signs of a few bruises right above her elbow – fingers maybe? – as they had begun to fade. He looked up at her, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones as his mouth flattened in anger. She jerked her arm away from him, grabbing her hoodie and pulling it on. “That from Kevin, too?”

“Leave me alone,” she whispered, zipping up her hoodie and turning again from him as she dug in her bag. 

"What the fuck, Reagan? Is this the guy you’re going back to?” Michael asked her. Reagan looked at him again, sighing wearily. He had his elbows on his knees, hands clasped underneath his chin as he looked at her. That muscle on his forehead was ticking and she knew he was angry.

“I’m sorry, Michael, for everything. I really am, but I just can’t do this, okay? Please understand. I just can’t,” Reagan mumbled, hoping he would just drop it.

“Does he know? Is that why he’s so angry?” Michael asked her, his lips pursed in anger. “I could hear him yelling at you – berating you – on the phone, Reagan.”

“No. He doesn’t know,” Reagan mumbled, her voice numb and void of emotion now. She was mentally and physically drained. She had no energy left for this.

“So he’s always an asshole, then?” Michael pushed and Reagan shrugged her shoulders again.

“You don’t understand, Michael. He just-”

“No. No I do understand. I have had friends who have been in situations similar to this. Always making excuses for their asshole boyfriends or husbands. There is no excuse, do you understand me? Look at me, Reagan,” Michael said, touching her arm lightly. “Look at me, please.”

Reagan turned to look at him, her lower lip trembling as she shook her head in defeat. She just couldn’t do this right now. Especially with Michael, after everything they had shared last night.

“Where’s the girl that was passionate about her presentation? The girl that was cussing me out? The girl that was funny and flirty last night? The girl that I made love to last night? Where is she Reagan, because this is not her,” he said, his eyes kind as his thumb lightly rubbed her arm. “What happened to you, love?”

Reagan broke down, shaking her head as no words came out. She buried her face in her hands, all the emotions of the past 2 days – of the past 4 years even – coming out, washing over her in waves. She felt Michael tugging on her hand and she blindly followed him as he pulled her onto his lap. Not caring what the other passengers thought, Reagan curled around Michael, crying into his shoulder. He pulled his jacket over the top of her, wrapping his arms around her as he whispered into her hair.

“It’s okay, love. I’ve got you now,” Michael murmured against her temple, his jaw flexing in anger. He surely hoped that fucker showed up at the airport like he said on the phone. He would teach him a thing or two about putting his fucking hands on a woman.


	12. Chapter 12

“Reagan? Reagan, wake up, love,” Michael nudged her softly, rubbing her shoulder to wake her up. She had literally slept in his arms the entire flight, hardly moving. Michael had gotten into a bit of a tussle with the flight attendant, arguing over whether it was allowed or not, but in the end he had gotten his way. He did need to take a piss, though, and the plane was about 45 minutes from landing so he needed to wake her. He needed to talk to her again, and he hoped that the nap she’d taken had given her a bit more strength. Reagan looked up, her eyes squinting at the bright light. She pushed off Michael, leaning back and looking at him in confusion. He grinned back at her.

“You sleep well, love?” he asked, winking at her. Reagan rubbed her eyes, looking at him once more in confusion. “I need to take a piss. Can I get up?”

Reagan nodded, slowly crawling off his lap as she moved back into her own seat and snuggled into his jacket. He smiled at her and damn if she didn’t smile back.

“I’ll be right back, love.”

“Okay,” she whispered, moving the pillow around so that it was more comfortable. Michael hopped up, quickly moving to the bathroom. When he was finished, he headed back to their seats, hoping that Reagan was still awake. She was. He sat down, turning towards her, his smile getting bigger as she smiled back still.

“How do you feel, beautiful?” he asked, reaching over and tucking her hair back behind her ear.

“Better,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Michael.”

“Don’t thank me, girl. I got to fly back with a pretty girl on my lap, so I should thank you,” he said, winking at her again.

“You are such a pervert, you know that?” Reagan teased, her dimple coming out as she smiled. Michael thought she never looked more beautiful than she did now, her hair a mess and her dimple showing as she smiled out from underneath his jacket.

“I know,” he chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat as he stared at her. “Are you going to be alright?” he asked, his voice serious. The change in her was almost immediate. She sat up in her chair, her relaxed attitude gone, and Michael regretted opening his big mouth and ruining the mood. She looked down at his jacket, perhaps realizing it wasn’t hers, and handing it to him. He reluctantly took it, his aggravation growing. “Reagan?” he pressed.

“I’ll be fine, Michael. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” she said, her fake smile grating on his nerves.

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it. It doesn’t have to be this way. You don’t have to go back to him,” he watched her turning her engagement ring around on her finger and he scowled. “So, you put it back on, then?”

“Yes,” she whispered, not looking at him. “Michael please just let it go. Please.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she said, turning to him now and he could see the turmoil in her beautiful brown eyes. Just then the captain announced that they were making their descent and that everyone should get back to their seats. Michael frowned again, seeing the look in Reagan’s eyes as they drew closer to the airport. She took on a resigned look, one that sucked all the life out of her and Michael got more and more pissed off as he watched the transformation.

“Please don’t talk to me or walk by me when we get off,” she said to him, her voice flat.

“Why?” Michael bit out, knowing full well why.

“You know why,” Reagan said evenly.

“I do, but I want you to say it. I want you to hear how ridiculous it sounds that you are this afraid of some asshole. You don’t have to go with him, love.”

“You don’t know him, Michael,” she whispered again.

Michael shook his head, knowing he had to stop or she would get wound up again. He settled back into his seat, buckling as the plane descended. He scooped up his jacket and put it on, knowing he needed to be ready to get off the plane as soon as possible. He would be damned if he let Reagan go with this asshole.

* * *

 

 

Michael followed Reagan at a respectable distance, watching as she stiffly walked to the baggage area and waited for her bag. He could see she was on her cell phone, talking frantically again. Even from here he could see her shaking and it pissed him off to no end. She had just picked up her suitcase and was hauling it off the belt when a man walked up and covertly grabbed her by her neck, pulling her back against him. Anyone else looking would think it was lover’s embrace, but he watched the man forcefully turn Reagan to him, watched as he glared down at her and whisper something to her. Reagan looked at his chest, not meeting his eyes as she nodded in submission. He let go and started heading out, leaving Reagan to drag her suitcase and backpack along behind her. What a fucking son-of-a-bitch, Michael thought bitterly, grabbing his suitcase and following her out to the garage. She never looked up, never looked back – she just kept following the man who Michael assumed was Kevin.

Once they got into the garage, Michael held back a bit more, making sure not to draw attention. They stopped at a black Mustang, the man popping the trunk and gesturing for Reagan to throw her things in. He couldn’t even be bothered to help her with her fucking bags? Michael stood by the concrete column, watching as Reagan shifted things around in his trunk. The prick came back around to the trunk, his hand once again going to Reagan’s neck. He pushed her down to the trunk and gestured wildly with his other hand at something in the trunk. Reagan held up her hands, trying to calm him as she frantically began moving things in the trunk. The man pushed her once more, pushing her head down into the trunk one last time as he walked back over to the driver’s side and started typing on his phone. “Hurry the fuck up,” he heard the man call out to Reagan, who was still moving things in the trunk.  Michael had enough. He walked purposefully to the car, walking past Reagan and to the driver’s side. He reached in, pulled the man out by his shirt and slammed him up against the car.

“Hey! What the fuck, man?” the man yelled, his brown eyes furious. He smelled like a bar – alcohol and cigarettes on his disgusting breath - and Michael looked at him in contempt.

“Are you Kevin?” Michael asked quietly, his fists twisting in the man’s shirt as he leaned him back over the car.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” the man sneered back. “This is who you were texting, isn’t it you bitch?” Kevin called out to Reagan, turning and glaring at her. Reagan stood still, not moving from her place at the trunk as she held her hands over her face.

“So are you Kevin?” Michael asked once more, his patience running thin.

“Fuck. You,” the man slurred back, his words heavy with alcohol. Michael slapped him, hard across the face, and the man sputtered, disbelief at what had just happened.

“Alright, I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Michael said, quickly bringing his knee up into Kevin’s groin, knocking the wind right out of the man as he cried out in pain. When Kevin doubled over, crumpling to the floor in front of him, Michael leaned down and grabbed his jaw, turning his face up to his.

“Let me make this clear for you. If you ever so much as touch a hair on Reagan’s head again, I will rearrange your fucking face. Is that clear enough?” Michael said, his voice dangerously calm. Kevin nodded, clutching his groin and rolling onto his side on the ground as Michael released him. Michael stood up straight and walked back to the trunk. He reached in, pulled Reagan’s suitcase out and slipped her backpack over his shoulder. He held his hand out to her, gesturing for her to take it.

“Come on, love. You’re coming with me,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. Reagan looked over at Kevin writhing on the ground in pain, a moment of hesitation as she contemplated what to do.

“Reagan. Come with me,” Michael said once more, reaching down and grabbing her hand. “That asshole is where he needs to be. Leave him.” He grabbed their luggage and pulled her alongside him as he walked back out of the garage and into the sunlight. He stopped at the curb, looking for the car that was his ride. He saw the black Tahoe parked by the curb, the driver standing outside with a sign that had the letters “M.F.” on it. He briskly walked with Reagan to the SUV, nodding at the driver as he handed off their luggage.  Michael walked around to the passenger side, opening the back door and ushered Reagan in. He looked towards the garage for any sign of that prick having followed them. Satisfied that he didn’t see anything, he climbed in beside Reagan and shut the door. She was sitting there in the middle of the seat, her face expressionless as she stared straight ahead.

“Reagan? Love? You alright?” Michael asked, looking at her in concern.

“I don’t know, Michael,” she whispered. “I don’t think that was a good idea. He’s going to be so mad at me.” Reagan stared down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap. Michael reached over and took one hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it gently.

“Then I will kick his ass again, love,” Michael murmured against the back of her hand. Reagan shook her head, her eyes wide and wary as she looked back out the window.

“You just don’t understand. He works for my dad. Everyone is going to be so mad at me,” Reagan mumbled, pulling her hand away from him and hugging herself tightly. Michael leaned back against the door, staring at her in confusion and opened his mouth to say something when the driver hopped in the SUV.

“Still heading to The Joule, Mr. Fassbender?” the driver asked, looking into the rearview mirror. Michael nodded at him, and the driver pulled the car away from the curb and eased it out into the traffic.

“We’ll talk when we get to the hotel, right?” Michael said to Reagan, scooting over and wrapping an arm around her trembling shoulders. He leaned over her and buckled her seat belt, buckling his after. He planted a soft kiss on her temple and looked back out the window, his mind racing.


	13. Chapter 13

Michael opened the door to the suite, standing quietly as Reagan walked inside. She hadn’t spoken since the few words she had mumbled while in the car and he was fucking worried about her.

“Reagan, love, you alright?” Michael asked, dropping his things and coming to stand beside her. She looked down at the ground, her chin trembling. “Why are you crying?” She shrugged her shoulders, still looking at the ground. Michael reached down and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. He laid her down gently and crawled in next to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She pushed against him half-heartedly, and Michael pulled her in even closer til her head was on his chest, right underneath his chin.

“Don’t, Reagan. I am not going to do anything or try anything. Just rest, alright?” Michael whispered against her hair, his arms stroking up and down her back soothingly. Reagan relented finally, and Michael could feel her relax in his arms. She sighed deeply, a long drawn out breath, and snuggled in to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Michael smiled over the top of her head and closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the feel of her in his arms. He never thought he would feel this again with her and he was going to savor every moment of it.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Reagan awoke, sitting up in the bed and looking around at her surroundings. It took a moment for her to realize where she was and once she did she started panicking again. Just then, Michael walked out of the bathroom, his hair wet from his shower and a towel wrapped around his slim waist. He smiled, seeing her awake.

 

 “Hey,” he said softly, stopping where he was as he stared at her. “You alright?”

Reagan tried to concentrate – really she did – as she stared at him in that damn towel and nothing else. Regardless of everything that had happened with them on the plane and at the airport, and regardless of all the hell she was going to catch at home, she was floored once again by how handsome this man was. Memories of that night together came flashing back, heating her cheeks and quickening her breath.  Michael dressed in clothes was gorgeous; Michael wearing a towel with wet, messy hair from the shower was something else entirely.

“Reagan?” Michael asked again, coming to sit next to her on the bed. She scooted away from him, not trusting herself around him. Michael held up his hands in protest. “I’m not going to do anything to you, girl. I want to help you, right?” Reagan stared at him, indecision weighing heavily on her. Kevin would-

_Kevin_.

Fuck.

“I need to go,” Reagan said, sliding off the bed and standing up. Michael stood up as well, frowning at her.

“No, Reagan. You don’t. Where will you go?” he asked, walking around to stand before her. Reagan looked down, her body arguing with her mind as she tried to not look at his chest. His smell, his proximity to her – all of it was too much and her body was responding whether she liked it or not. She had to get out of this room before she did something else she regretted. She sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself as she looked up at Michael.

“I have to go. Really.”

“Where are you going, Reagan? You can’t go back to that asshole,” Michael continued, his voice hard now.

“You just don’t understand how it is with my family, Michael. It’s….it’s complicated,” she hedged, running her hands through her hair as she tried to smooth it down. She looked around the room, not sure what she was looking for. Michael reached down and grabbed her hand, holding it gently.

“Reagan, calm down and just talk to me. It’s late already – no sense in going anywhere tonight. If you want to leave tomorrow, then I’ll arrange it,” Michael said, smiling gently at her. “I promise.”

Reagan looked up at him in indecision, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She was so fucking confused on what she should do and what she wanted to do. She knew there would be hell to pay when she went home, but she had to eventually. She couldn’t hang out in Michael’s hotel room for the rest of her life. Michael squeezed her hand, drawing her back from her thoughts.

“Talk to me, Reagan. Help me understand and maybe I can help you, right? Come on, let’s go sit down and we’ll talk, right?” Michael asked, pulling her gently with him. He led her over to the couch, waiting til she sat down before he did the same. Reagan looked at him out of the corner of her eye and giggled.

“Can you get dressed?” she asked, gesturing to his towel that was precariously perched on his hips. Michael looked down, laughing as he did so.

“Sorry. It’s habit, although I do like to wear less,” he said, winking at her as he stood up and walked over to his suitcase.

Reagan rolled her eyes, trying not to watch him as he pulled out whatever clothes he was going to wear and walked to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and Reagan let out the breath she had been holding. Michael was like sensory overload – too much of a good thing. Even now she couldn’t believe where she was at and who she was with. It just didn’t seem possible. Just then her phone buzzed and Reagan jumped, her heart racing immediately. She walked over to the coffee table and picked it up, her hands shaking as she read the message. It was from her father.

**Paul: I don’t know where you are. Kevin is here now. You need to come home. We need to talk.**

**Paul: Immediately.**

Reagan felt the air rush out of her lungs, the text message from her father flooring her. Kevin was with them. Kevin probably told them what happened, even though he seemed drunk at the time. Reagan closed her eyes, feeling the world start spinning as she tried to breathe. She could only imagine what her mother was going through right now, the way things tended to trickle down in her family. Her dad would blame her mother for not _“keeping Reagan in line”_ and from then it would progress. Reagan looked around, trying to collect her bearings. She walked back over to the couch, sinking down onto it as she stared again at the phone. Should she call or text? Oh fuck! She was more afraid now that she had done what she did than if she had just gone with Kevin in the first place. Fuck.

“You alright, Reagan?” Michael asked, coming back out to the couch. He was wearing jeans and no shirt, his feet bare. “I’m hot-natured and it’s hot in here. Can I keep my shirt off?” he asked her, smiling as he did so. His smiled faded, however, as he saw the look on her face. He sat down next to her, taking the phone from her trembling hands. He looked at the messages, his brows drawing together in anger and confusion.

“Who’s Paul?”

“My father.”

Not questioning why Reagan would call her father by his first name, Michael shut the phone completely off, laying it on the couch next to them. He had no fucking idea what kind of family Reagan had, but it didn’t sound good.  At all.

“Reagan, I need you to explain everything to me. You said that dick works for your dad. That message said he’s with your dad right now. Can you tell me what all this means?” Michael asked softly, reaching out and taking one of her trembling hands. She was tapping her foot against the floor, her eyes wandering around as if she were looking for something. Michael squeezed her hand, trying to bring her back to the present. “Reagan?”

“What?” she whispered, looking over at the door, her eyes wide with what Michael assumed was fear. Michael stood up and walked to the door, locking both locks and sliding the chain lock in place. He headed back over to Reagan, sitting down and once again taking her hand in his.

“No one’s going to hurt you here, girl. Tell me what’s going on, please,” Michael said, trying to relax her and get her talking. He rubbed her hand lightly, waiting patiently.

“My father – Paul – owns a large oil business outside of Dallas. Very rich, very powerful, well-respected in the community. The business has been in our family for years. My grandfather before him, and so on,” Reagan continued, staring blankly at the floor in front of her. “All the men in my family have always been abusive. Goes along with the religion I think. Head of the household and submission,” Reagan said bitterly. “All the woman have been like my mother as far as I know, and Kevin fits in perfectly.”

“What do you mean fits in perfectly? If he’s beating the shit out of you why doesn’t anyone do anything? Your mom and dad are divorced – why doesn’t your mom help, love?” Michael asked, his face screwed up in confusion still.

“They are divorced, but still live together. My father would never let her leave him, or have her own life, Michael. Every family has their secrets,” Reagan said, shaking her head at him as if he should understand. Michael ran his hands through his hair, pissed off beyond measure. This was fucking America. Did people really live like this? He looked back at Reagan, watching as she fidgeted still, her knees shaking.

“So let me get this straight. Your father is rich, he’s an abusive asshole, and abuses your mother, who he’s divorced from. You are supposed to marry this Kevin guy who you've been engaged to 4 years, who you’ve never slept with but who’s slept around on you. He also beats the shit out of you. Is that about right?” Michael ground out, a hard edge to his voice. “You are so smart. Why are you engaged to this fucker, again? Why haven’t you just left your family and moved on, Reagan? Leave them to their crazy shit?”

“Because of my mother, Michael. I can’t just leave her there. If I am not there to take some of….some of it…she’ll get it all and something bad might happen. I don’t know, Michael. I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s always been this way.”

“Why are you engaged to this fucker?”

“Kevin works for my dad, he’s going to take the business one day. Kevin’s dad helped found the company and it was just always kind of assumed that we’d get married. Not like an arranged marriage, but kind of similar. There’s a lot of money involved, Michael. A lot,” Reagan finished, whispering now. “Kevin has always kind of hated me, but there were days when he was so nice to me and I thought it would just get better one day. I thought with my degree that I could change him maybe?” Reagan looked at him, her eyes full of false hope. “I don’t know, Michael. I can’t explain the way it is. It’s just always been this way.”

“Your father beats your mother?”

“Yes,” Reagan whispered.

“Does he know the fucker hits you?” Michael bit out, teeth clenched in anger.

“Yes,” Reagan whispered again.

“And he does nothing?” Michael asked. He was fucking shocked to hear this kind of shit happened in today’s day and age. What in the fuck? He would have never known by looking at Reagan that she was hiding some kind of secret like this.

“It’s the way it is, Michael. I grew up with my mother being hit, and it was condoned in our church to an extent. It was not encouraged but it wasn’t looked down on, either. We were always told if we were more submissive and didn’t make him mad, he wouldn’t have to hit us,” Reagan shrugged, the words rolling of her tongue nonchalantly. Michael was still shocked.

“Reagan do you even hear yourself talking?” Michael asked, turning to her. “What is your degree in?”

“PhD in marriage and family therapy.”

Michael laughed, a hollow sound that was anything but humorous.

“Fucking really? I don’t exactly know what that is, but what the fuck do you tell clients who are having the shit beat out of them?” Michael asked. He was fucking livid now, not believing what he was hearing.

“They don’t beat the shit out of us, Michael. It’s more like…discipline… if we don’t do as we’re supposed to.” Michael reached over, pulling her sleeve up again and staring at the remnants of the bruises on her elbow. Reagan jerked her arm away from him, glaring at him.

“And what the fuck is that, Reagan? Did you forget to wipe his ass so he grabbed you?”

“Don’t mock me, Michael,” Reagan said, getting just as furious. She glared at him, her brown eyes heated.

“Oh, so you’ll get pissed at me for calling you on this bullshit, but you’ll let him lead you around by your neck like some kind of fucking dog?” Michael shot back, just as pissed off. Reagan stood up, her fists balled at her sides as she glared down at him.

“Don’t fucking mock me, Michael,” Reagan said quietly, seething with anger. She was so fucking pissed right now she could slap the shit out of him. Michael stood up, towering over her and causing her to step back. She backed up only barely, intent on holding her ground as she now glared up at him.

“Or what?” Michael challenged. He leaned down close, getting nose to nose with her as he spoke. “What will you do, love? What if I were to reach down and grab you by your neck? What would yo-”

Reagan's hand moved of it's own accord, coming around and swinging, connecting with that perfectly gingery-stubbled cheek. She would be damned if she let Michael push her around like Kevin did. She had enough.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Michael recoiled as Reagan slapped him, the sound of her palm resounding loudly in the room. The force turned Michael’s face, and he rolled his jaw to alleviate the pain as he turned back to face her. Reagan was still glaring at him, her fists balled once again. Michael grinned at her, rubbing his cheek with his palm.

“Why are you smiling, asshole?” Reagan bit out, teeth still clenched.

“Because you slapped me, love.”

“Why is that funny?”

“I’m proud of you, actually,” Michael said, still grinning at her. Reagan’s brows knotted in confusion as she stared at him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Look, I think you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for and that just proved it,” Michael said, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to smile at her. Reagan squinted her eyes at him as she realized what had just happened.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

Michael continued grinning, rubbing his hands up and down the sides of his arms. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she swore he was smirking.

“Did you?” she practically screeched, coming to stand in front of him and glaring up at him. “Well??”

Michael leaned down and quickly kissed her on the tip of her nose. Reagan huffed and sputtered as he quickly moved away, not wanting to get slapped again. Michael dramatically ran over to the other side of the bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it in front of him like a shield, and peeked over the top at Reagan, eyebrow still arched. Reagan was still glaring at him, but she was finding it harder and harder to stay mad at him, her mouth beginning to lift at the corners. Michael dropped down on the floor by the bed and peeked over the top once more, still holding the pillow as a shield. Reagan burst out laughing, unable to control herself. She hopped on the bed and grabbed a pillow of her own, quickly crawling over and slamming it against Michael’s back as he crouched down.

“Oh you wanna play like that, girl?” Michael said, hopping up on the bed himself with his pillow. “I am the pillow-fight master.” He grabbed Reagan’s foot as she tried to crawl away, pulling her to him as he pummeled her with the pillow. Reagan squealed, trying in vain to hit him with her own pillow.

“Stop it! Michael! Let me go!” she yelled, twisting and turning to escape his grasp. Michael pulled her to him, dragging her underneath him and pinned her to the bed. He had each of her hands in his and half-way laid on her, her legs out to his side.

“Apologize, woman,” Michael said, looking down at her.

“Apologize for what?” Reagan teased, struggling against his grip. She could not concentrate with him like this, shirtless and on top of her. Holy fuck.

“For trying to break my face,” Michael teased back. “You’re a mean woman, Reagan, trying to hurt me like that.”

“I’ve wanted to do that since I met you,” Reagan whispered, staring at his lips now. The man was positively intoxicating. A few minutes ago she was slapping she shit out of him and now she wanted to kiss him. Fucking fuck.

“Really?” Michael said softly, noticing the change in her. He shifted a bit, leaning his chest down on her a bit more. “Anything else you’ve wanted to do since you met me?” His voice was husky now, his eyes darkening and Reagan sucked in a deep breath.

“Lots,” she replied, wiggling against him slightly.

“Like what?” Michael said as he loosened his grip on her hands and laced his fingers with hers. He pulled their clasped hands down to rest beside her head, and propped himself up on his forearms as he stared down at her.

“I don’t know…” she murmured. Her body was already tingling just from the contact she had with him. She could feel her nipples hardening, the slight pressure from his chest doing bad things to her.

“You do know,” Michael said, leaning down and just barely kissing her lips. “Tell me…”

 

Reagan closed her eyes, arching her body up against his, not caring anymore about consequences, or what anyone thought. She wanted him and she was pretty sure he wanted her. Michael trailed his lips down her jaw, goosebumps breaking out on her skin as he moved closer to her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe, smiling as she groaned and squeezed his hands. He released her hands and she immediately brought them up to his head, her fingers tangling in his damp hair. She turned her head allowing him better access and he continued dropping kisses along the column of her neck, occasionally going back to her ear. He worked his way back around, kissing along her jaw line as he moved back to her mouth, kissing the corners of her lips. He pulled back, looking at her once again.

“Tell me what you want, Reagan,” he said softly, wanting to hear it from her lips. She opened her eyes, dazed still from his mouth on her neck, her cheeks flushed with desire. “You are so sexy, Reagan. Tell me what you want…”

“I want you…to do what we did last time…” Reagan mumbled, her cheeks turning even redder at her admission. Michael leaned forward again, kissing her softly on the lips. His eyes never left hers, watching for any signs of hesitation. He reached up and cupped her cheeks, his thumbs caressing the area between cheek and ear.

“You sure about this, love?” Michael asked, his blue eyes meeting her soft brown eyes. Reagan nodded, reaching up and placing her hands on his as he held her face.

“Yes,” she whispered, turning her face and nuzzling into his hand.

“Do you realize how beautiful you are, Reagan?” Michael asked, kissing her hand softly as he held it against his mouth. “Absolutely stunning, love.” Reagan turned her face to the side, and Michael could see she was embarrassed by his compliments. He placed his finger under her chin and turned her back around to face him. She still tried to avert her eyes.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Michael asked, kissing her knuckles as he stared at her.

“It’s nothing…” Reagan trailed off, shaking her head in dismissal.

“No. It’s something. Tell me, love,” Michael encouraged, continuing to kiss her knuckles. “Tell me.”

“You said that I was no good, Michael. That you’d be better off….you know…oh whatever , it’s stupid, I know,” Reagan continued, her face blossoming with her embarrassment. Michael smiled sadly at her, and pulled her hand up to his chest, pressing it against him.

“Love, I was an asshole that day. A real prick. I was reacting because I thought you had used me to get back at that dick of a fiancé,” Michael said, his mouth flattening at the mention of him. “When you got up and left I was pissed. Thought I had done something wrong, even,” Michael said kissing her forehead again and pulling back to look at her. “Can you forgive me? I am so sorry to have said that to you. You were beyond perfect.” Reagan looked back at him skeptically, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. He knew she didn’t believe him.

“Do you know how special it was for me that I was your first? Do you even have any idea what that makes me feel like as a man, Reagan?” Michael smiled down at her as he trailed his hand down her side and to her waist. “That I was the first man to ever touch you here,” Michael finished, his eyes growing darker as he palmed her over her jeans. Reagan gasped, her body instinctively pushing against his hand as she closed her eyes. “That you respond to me like that, Reagan. Do you have any idea what that does to me?” Michael asked, leaning down and kissing her at the corner of her mouth. Reagan moaned, still pushing against his hand.

“Is there something you want, girl?” Michael teased, nipping at her lower lip as she moaned again. “Tell me,” he whispered huskily against her lips.

“I want that,” Reagan whined, pushing against his hand again.

“You want what?” Michael coaxed, his hand lightly moving against her mound. Even through her jeans he could feel the wet heat there. Fuck. “Tell me what you want, Reagan, and I’ll do it.”

“I want your hand…down there…” Reagan whispered, mortifying herself even as she tried to bury her face in his neck.

“You want my hand where?” Michael whispered, nudging her with his nose til she was back to looking at him. “Tell me…”

“Between my legs. I want your hand between my legs,” Reagan whispered, held in place by his intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark and stormy, sending a shiver up Reagan’s body as he stared at her.

“You want my hand between your legs, Reagan?” Michael asked, pushing her thighs apart as he palmed her again. “Panties or not?”

“Not,” Reagan whispered, her heart beating out of her chest and in her ears as her body moved of it’s own accord against his palm.

Michael sat up and unbuttoned her jeans, looking in her eyes as he pulled the jeans and panties off and tossed them on the floor. Reagan felt herself getting wetter by the moment, the thrill and anticipation of what was to come nearly burning her up. She sucked in a breath when Michael lay back down next to her, half on top, and trailed his hand back down to her waist. She involuntarily moved again, wanting his hand down there.

“Patience, love,” Michael grinned against her lips, nuzzling her nose with his as he moved his hand lower, just barely skimming over her. Reagan arched up off the bed, the feeling of his fingers trailing over her nearly doing her in. Michael pushed her thighs apart, his hand at the juncture of her thighs as he spread her open. Her gaze still held by his, Michael trailed his palm from the bottom up, his middle finger applying light pressure to her entrance and clit along the way. He finished with his palm on her, completely covering her as he rubbed his thumb lightly around her clit, eliciting whimpers from Reagan as she moved against him.

“Please, Michael,” Reagan moaned, her eyes closed now as he continued teasing her. He slid one finger along her entrance, not quite pushing in as she pushed against him.

“Is that what you want, love?” he whispered, his voice husky with his own desire.

“Please,” Reagan repeated again, her voice soft with her need. Michael slipped one long finger in, feeling her tight walls wrapped against him, wishing it was him buried inside her instead of his fingers. He groaned and closed his eyes as she clenched against him, her hips moving as he thrust his finger in and out.

“Is this what you need, sweetie?” Michael said, watching her come undone beneath his hands. Fuck but she was gorgeous, all wanton need and biting on that damn lip. Fuck. He slipped another finger in, smiling as she gasped, her hand reaching down to hold his hand in place as she ground against him.

“Oh god…Michael…ohh…” Reagan whined, her hips undulating against him and her thighs trembling. “I don’t…oh god!” she cried, her back arching up off the bed as she came, her orgasm exploding through her. Michael continued pumping in and out, trying to get every last bit of pleasure out of her he could. When she finally stopped moving, she looked up at him shyly, her face flaming once again at the look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, casting her eyes down to his chest. Michael frowned at her in confusion.

“What would you be sorry about, love?” Michael asked, tilting her face up once again to force her to look at him. She gestured down to where his hand was still resting, and Michael lightly rubbed his finger against her again, earning a gasp from her as she clenched her eyes. “I’m only sorry it wasn’t me there instead of my fingers,” he murmured huskily against her lips.

"Do you want to be?” Reagan asked hesitantly, her cheeks still rosy with embarrassment.

“More than you can imagine,” Michael said, scooting up and grabbing her hand, bringing it to the front of his jeans so she could feel just how turned on he was. “See what you do to me, girl?” Reagan tentatively rubbed her fingers against him, smiling as he closed his eyes and groaned into her neck. She turned on her side, giving herself better access to his crotch. She unbuttoned his pants with one hand, timidly sliding her hand down inside and reaching for his cock. Michael grabbed her hand, stilling it as his stormy blue eyes met hers.

“I don’t have any fucking condoms,” Michael bit out, his teeth clenched together in aggravation. Reagan smiled at him, wriggling her hand free from him and resting it on his forearm.

“I didn’t get to tell you last time but I am on birth control. I have….lady problems…and have been on the pill since I was 14 but now I have the implanted one in my arm,” Reagan said shyly, reaching down to grab Michael’s hand and placed it on her upper arm. “You feel that bump? That’s the implant. I’ve had that for almost 2 years now.” Michael looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I mean, if you don’t trust me, I understand. I can show you the card that says when it was implanted and when it expires. I’ve always had bad cramps and then I developed endometriosis and the pills and this implant are the only things that help,” she continued, releasing his hand and dropping hers back to rest on her chest. Michael leaned his forehead against hers, sighing deeply.

“Touch me. Please,” he whispered against her lips, his eyes closed as he grabbed her hand and placed it back at the top of his jeans. “Please, Reagan.”

“Really?” Reagan asked in incredulity. Did he really want her to touch him?

“Yeah, really. I’m dying, love,” Michael grumbled, rubbing his nose against hers as he pushed at her hand. Reagan – still watching his face – slowly started pushing her hand back down the top of his jeans, meeting the resistance that was his boxers. She slowly slipped her fingers past the top of the boxers, her breath catching as she felt the edge of his pubic hair. Moving painstakingly slow, she continued on, scooting down further so that she could reach him. When she finally felt him, she was shocked at how hard it was. Hard and hot and smooth like silk, she wrapped her tiny fingers around it, sliding them as much as she could, given that he still had his jeans and boxers on.

“Holy fuck!” Michael growled, his face contorting in what Reagan thought was pain. She quickly pulled her hand back out, not knowing what she had done wrong. Again Michael grabbed her hand, holding it against his crotch. “Don’t…don’t move your hand, Reagan. Fuck but you are killing me,” he groaned out, pushing against her hand again.

“In a good way or a bad way?” Reagan asked curiously, her fingers once again slipping past his boxers to his straining cock.

“In a very good way, love,” Michael whispered, his lips brushing against her cheek and traveling to her ear. “I want to bury myself in you right now, girl.”

“Then why don’t you?” Reagan asked, shocking herself once again. Michael pulled back, looking at her in disbelief.

“Really?”

“Really,” Reagan said as she squeezed his cock once again, sliding her fingers down and cupping his balls as he sucked in a breath. Michael immediately sat up, quickly stripping his jeans and boxers off and kneeling between her thighs. He looked down at her, his gaze as hard as his body. He leaned over her and Reagan felt his cock pressing against her thighs. She moved her hips, trying to find him and get him where she wanted him.

“Michael, please…” she whined, grasping at his back as she pulled him closer. Michael grabbed his cock, guiding it to her entrance and pushed at her, sliding in just a bit as Reagan moaned. He pushed in a bit more, holding himself back as he tried to be gentle with her. Reagan had other ideas. She reached up, grabbing at his lower back and pulled him into her, using her feet on his thighs to pull him in, and lifted her hips at the same time to bury him inside her. Reagan let out a groan, her body squeezing at him on the inside. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at his lower back as she clawed at his shoulders.

“Holy shit, Reagan,” Michael grunted, his cock twitching inside her as he tried to calm his body. She was so fucking tight and wet and hot. He rested his forehead against hers, gritting his teeth as he tried to concentrate.

“Michael…” Reagan whined, her hips undulating against him as she tried to find her release once again.

“Reagan…oh fuck!” he swore as she began grinding against him, her hips rolling of their own accord. Michael began moving, unable to stop as she moved against him. He grabbed her right leg below the knee and pulled it up to his side, increasing the angle at which he was thrusting into her. He continued thrusting, the angle hitting Reagan in that perfect spot.

“Oh god… Michael! Please….I can’t…oh…Mich-” Reagan screamed, her body convulsing around him once again. Michael plunged into her one final time, stopping as his orgasm ripped through him, his hot cum coating her walls. Michael held himself still against her, his body pulsing inside Reagan as she continued to squeeze him. He groaned into her neck, his hand still at her thigh and holding her to him. Reagan, having finally calmed down, stroked his back and ran her fingers through his hair lazily as Michael finally stilled. Finally the tension left his body as he collapsed against her, his mouth at her neck. He was breathing heavy, his arms trembling, and brow sweaty. Reagan giggled as she ran her fingernails against his scalp.

“What’s funny, girl?” Michael mumbled, his breath hot on her neck, still sending shivers up and down her body.

“You,” Reagan giggled again, relaxing her legs and letting them fall out to the side. Michael’s weight on her – in her – was perfect and she never wanted to move from this very spot. She was beyond content, her eyelids getting heavy as she felt a calmness come over her that she hadn’t felt in a long time – maybe never.

“Me?” Michael mumbled again. “What did I do?” He shifted a bit, leaning up on his forearms as he stared down at her. He looked just as sleepy as she felt. Reagan smiled up at him, running her fingers along his jaw line. He was so sexy with that stubble and those heavy blue eyes…

“It’s nothing. I just can’t believe that it was better this time than last time,” Reagan whispered, her face flaming as she spoke. Michael grinned down at her, nuzzling her nose with his.

“Satisfied, then?” he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth lightly. Reagan sighed, stretching against him.

“Very,” she said, looking at him questioningly. “Are you?”

Michael kissed her hard on the lips as he pushed against her body. Reagan groaned, feeling herself getting aroused again. How quickly this man could have her practically begging! She tightened her legs around him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pulled him to her.

“I will never be satisfied with you. Every time I get a little taste of you I want more, love,” Michael growled into her ear, swiveling his hips around at her core where they were still joined. He smiled as Reagan moaned, her body responding to him making him hard once again. “You ready for round two, love?” Reagan locked her ankles at his lower back, pulling him in deeper. Michael bent down to kiss her, and lost himself in her mouth and hands and body. Round two it was.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - physical abuse by a parental figure. Non-consensual sex.

Reagan lazily drew circles on Michael’s chest, pushing and pulling at the sparse chest hair that ran along his sternum. She smiled, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his stomach and chest totally relaxing her. She should be tired – having made love 3 times in the past hour – but she was wide awake. She moved her hand off to his side, wrapping her arm around him as she snuggled into his chest and hugged him. He mumbled softly in his sleep, and Reagan smiled again. Never in a million years did she think she would ever be in a place like this. A year ago-

Reagan frowned, thinking about what happened almost a year ago. She had finally decided that she had enough with Kevin. Somewhere along the way she had bolstered enough courage to break it off – to end the cycle that her family was caught in. She remembered coming back to her family’s house that day, intent on packing her things and leaving. She was in her room, pulling clothes out of the closet when her father walked in, her mother in tow…

_“What are you doing?” Paul asked as he sipped casually on a glass filled with what she knew was brandy. Always drinking fucking brandy._

_“I’m leaving,” Reagan said, squaring her shoulders and trying to be as confident as possible._

_“Is that so?” Paul said, smiling as he walked towards her. Reagan’s mother was wringing her hands behind him, not daring to say a word. Reagan knew that smile and she backed away, her heart beating faster._

_“Yes,” Reagan said, lifting her chin as he came closer. She would not back down this time. She would not back down-_

_The smack came out of nowhere, although she should have expected it. Reagan crumpled to the ground, clutching her cheek as it throbbed. She blinked rapidly, stars floating before her eyes. Paul was standing over her and Reagan stared numbly at his shoes, her cheek stinging and head ringing._

_“Paul-” Reagan’s mother began, only to be cut off._

_“Unless you want some of the same – don’t,” Paul warned, reaching down and hauling Reagan up to her feet by her arm. He dragged her over to the bed and threw her down. He walked back over and picked up his brandy, taking another sip as he paced in front of Reagan. She had sat up and was now staring numbly at the floor, her hand still covering her cheek and the hand-print that she was sure was there._

_“You know, I have always done everything for the two of you. Always worked my ass off to provide an exceptional living for you girls. This house, the cars, the land – all of it. And what do I get in return?” he asked, his voice calm even though Reagan knew better._

_“What do I get in return, Reagan?” Reagan sniffled, her tears finally breaking through. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop. She knew it would piss him off even more. “Crying now?” Paul turned to Reagan’s mother, sneering at her. “You see this shit? Now she’s crying.” He turned back to Reagan, taking another sip of his brandy. “I pay for your education, I gave you a job – hell, I even found someone willing to marry you, and you go and try to fuck that up, don’t you?”_

_“I…I’m sorry…” Reagan mumbled, looking down at the ground._

_“You’re sorry? Is that all you’ve got? Everyone knows you’re sorry – there’s no disputing that. How could you not be with a mother like that? And let’s not forget the bastard who fathered you. In prison - an alcoholic, and worthless. When I came along and rescued your mother from him, I expected more in return, but instead I get a worthless wife – a whore no less –and a stepdaughter who insists on making my life a fucking miserable hell,” Paul continued as Reagan sat numbly, still staring at the ground. “Where do you think you would be without me? If you leave, who will pay for your school? You have no skills, you’re stupid as shit - how will you take care of yourself?” Reagan’s mother stood quietly, looking at the ground herself._

_“You could be all set. A good husband and money, but no – you have to go and try to fuck it up. Did you think Kevin wouldn’t tell me what you did?” Paul stood over Reagan, his face full of contempt. “Look at me, goddamnit!” He reached down and jerked Reagan up by her arm once again. Reagan continued to cry, turning her face away from him as his alcohol-infused breath washed over her face._

_“Please, Paul, I’m sorry..I-” Reagan cried, her eyes shut tight._

_“If you think I am going to let you fuck up this company and this deal you better rethink that, sweetheart. I've got too much on the line - my reputation in the community.  You will go back to Kevin and apologize for being a bitch and you will beg for him to forgive you. Do you understand me?” Paul ordered, his fingers biting into Reagan’s arm painfully. He jerked her hard. “Do you understand me?” Reagan nodded her head, tears rolling down her cheeks as she did so. Paul abruptly released her, and Reagan fell down on the bed once again. She watched as Paul slapped her mother in the back of the head, gesturing for her to follow him. At the door, Paul turned back to her. “Fix your face and apologize to Kevin. I'll send him up.”_

_Reagan nodded, wiping her face with her hands as Paul and her mother left the room. A few moments later, Kevin appeared in her doorway, walking in and shutting the door behind him. He slowly walked over to her, pulling his belt out of the belt loops. Just the sound of the leather sliding through the hoops was enough to make Reagan's skin break out in goosebumps._

_“You still want to leave me?” Kevin sneered, his face right next to hers. Reagan shook her head, looking away from him as best as she could. “That’s what I thought. You know what you have to do, so get down,” he ordered and Reagan choked back the bile that was rising in her throat. She dropped to her knees, her stomach lurching as Kevin unzipped his pants._

_“Hands behind your back,” he said, and Reagan complied, crossing her hands behind her back. “Open.” Reagan opened her mouth, and Kevin stuck his penis in, the smell and feel turning her stomach. Reagan tried not to gag – she really did – but her emotions were too much this time, her cheek still stinging. She gagged on him, quickly trying to swallow the vomit before it came out. Kevin looked down in disgust and pushed her away from him. Reagan fell back on the floor, her eyes tightly closed as she waited._

_“So now you don’t even want to do that?” Kevin bit out, kicking Reagan in the leg as he walked over to her. “You are so fucking useless, do you know that?” He grabbed her by her arm, jerking her up again. “Open your mouth and suck me off. Do it or I will beat the shit out of you.” Reagan opened her mouth once again, choking back tears as she prayed to not gag again. Just do it and it would be over with, she kept telling herself. It never took long for Kevin, his use of her. She just had to last for a few minutes. That’s all she had to do. True to form, 3 minutes later Kevin finished, his semen coating her mouth and face. Reagan sat numbly, not bothering to wipe or clean up as Kevin fixed his clothes.When he finished he knelt down, and kissed the top of her head as she stared at the ground.  
_

_"I accept your apology, sweetie," he said, tilting her head up to look at him. He smiled, grabbing a t-shirt off the bed and wiping her face with it. "Quite a mess you have there on your face."  He continued wiping her face until only the sticky residue remained._

_"Don't you feel better now that our little fight is over, Reagan?" Kevin asked, his eyes roaming over her face. "You are so beautiful and I hate to argue with you. You just made me so angry today. I can't stomach the thought of losing you, Reagan. Never say that to me again, okay?"  
_

_Reagan nodded numbly, her earlier resolve dead.  
_

_Kevin leaned over and kissed her on her forehead once more, smiling at her again._

_"You know I love you, sweetie. We just have to learn how to get along with each other so we don't have these issues, okay?_

_Reagan nodded again, still silent._

_"Do you love me, Reagan? You know how much I hate when you make me behave this way. Tell me you love me," Kevin ordered, his voice low. "Tell me, Reagan."_

_"I love you, Kevin," Reagan whispered, glancing up at him for effect._

_"There's a good girl, Reagan. I knew we could fix this. Just like we always do, right?"_

_Reagan nodded again._

_Kevin kissed her once more on the forehead, the smell of alcohol and his body turning her stomach once again. Reagan held her breath, trying not to let on how ill she felt in his presence._

_“I’m going downstairs to talk with your father. We'll talk tomorrow after you've had a chance to rest.”_

_Reagan nodded, and with that, Kevin left and Reagan crumpled to the floor again, her body mentally and physically giving out. She lay there for a few moments until the smell forced her into action. The smell of his semen and body odor still lingered on her. She jumped up, grabbing another t-shirt off her bed and wiping her face furiously._

_She couldn’t stand the smell or the feel of that mess on her face. She had to get it off. She had to. She scrubbed at her face, running to her bathroom and turning on the shower. She hurriedly stripped, frantically getting in and scrubbing at her body to remove the remnants of Kevin from her body._

_“Reagan?” Reagan looked up, meeting her mother’s sorrowful eyes. “Reagan I am so sorry,” her mother began, and Reagan broke down once again as she saw the tears in her mother’s eyes. She turned off the shower, taking the towel that her mother offered and wrapped herself in it._

_“It’s not your fault, mom,” Reagan said, not meeting her mother’s eyes._

_“It is, Reagan. I brought that man here, and it’s my fault,” she whispered, reaching out for Reagan. Reagan recoiled, not wanting to be touched by anyone._

_“It’s fine, mom,” Reagan continued, walking to her dresser and pulling out clothes. Her mother gasped as she saw the bruises on her daughter’s arms and back, the deep purple on her thigh. Reagan sharply cut her eyes to her mother, quickly pulling her t-shirt over her head. Neither spoke about the bruises – they never did. Cover them up and keep going. That’s what they did. Cover them up._

_“Reagan, they were drinking you know. Kevin said he was sorry on the way out,” her mother began, trying to ignore the obvious. “Even…even Paul said he was sorry, Reagan.”_

_“Just stop, Mom. Stop,” Reagan held her hands up wearily, not wanting to hear anymore. She walked over to her bed, laying down on it and covering herself. “Please turn the lights out on your way out.”_

_Reagan’s mother stood there for a moment, and Reagan waited for her to say something – anything -to release them from this hell._

_“I can’t leave him, Reagan. I don’t have anything without him. You won’t have anything without him, Reagan. He…he’s a good man, he just has some ways about him, you know? We just have to stop doing what we are doing, okay?” her mother pleaded and Reagan felt her stomach turn again and her mother’s helplessness._

_“Please go, Mom. I want to sleep,” Reagan said, turning over and staring at the wall. She lay there, listening as her mother finally left and closed the door behind her. Reagan wished she could cry, wished she could release some of the emotions that were roiling around inside her, but she couldn’t even do that. She was as dead on the inside as she was on the outside.  
_

 

Reagan felt the tears roll down her face, not even realizing she was crying until one rolled into her ear, causing her to shiver.  She sucked in a deep breath, the nausea taking hold quickly as she stared at Michael's chest. She had to get up before she vomited all over the bed.  She quietly and quickly untangled herself from Michael, and slid off the bed. She pulled off the small blanket at the end of the bed, wrapped it around her shivering body, and walked into the bathroom. Silently she laid down on the bath rug in front of the shower and curled up in a small ball, waiting for the nausea to pass. 


	16. Chapter 16

Michael woke up some time later, his bladder urging him to the bathroom. He felt around on the bed, the warmth of Reagan missing. He sat straight up, looking around in confusion. No lights were on, nothing seemed out of the ordinary – but she wasn’t in the bed with him. Where the fuck was she? 

Michael turned on the bedside lamp and stood up. He walked around the bedroom for a moment, not finding her anywhere still. He headed out into the living area, looking in the kitchen and the on the couch and still no trace of her but her things were still here. Her shoes were still sitting by the couch, her purse and luggage by the kitchen island. He ran his hands through his hair, sighing. She had to be here somewhere. 

He walked back in to the bedroom, heading to the bathroom. He had to piss before his bladder exploded. He flicked on the light and his heart dropped, the sight before him leaving him stunned. Reagan was curled up on the floor, her tiny body lying on the mat in front of the toilet. He could see that she was not dressed and was just barely covered by the thin blanket she had dragged into the bathroom with her. She was shivering, her teeth chattering even in her sleep. Frowning, Michael knelt down and pushed the hair off her forehead.

“Reagan? Sweetie?” Michael said softly, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb along her jaw. Reagan mumbled in her sleep, her brow creased.

“Reagan?” Michael tried again, shaking her shoulder slightly. Reagan sleepily opened her eyes, staring up at Michael in confusion. He smiled down at her, again rubbing her jaw gently with his thumb.

“Wha…what…” Reagan sat up, scooting back away from Michael in terror. “Where am I?” Her eyes were glazed over, and she used her hand to shield herself from the bright bathroom lights. 

Michael stood up quickly, wordlessly turning the lights down low. Thank god for a dimmer, he thought to himself. He walked back over to Reagan, kneeling down beside her once again. She was sitting now, leaned up against the bathtub and she wrapped the blanket around her tightly. 

“Reagan, sweetie, it’s me. Michael..” he said softly, not moving any closer to her. Reagan smiled at him, a sad smile he thought to himself.

“I know it’s you, Michael. I'm sorry. I was feeling sick at my stomach, so I came in here,” Reagan said, looking down at the floor. Michael breathed a sigh of relief as Reagan seemed to be coming around.

“You were sleeping on the floor, babe. Did you feel that bad?” Michael asked, moving to sit next to her. He leaned up against the tub himself, scooting right up to Reagan. She laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled in, and he let out the other breath he had been holding. She pretty much scared the shit out of him. “What’s going on, Reagan?” 

He felt her shrug against him.

“I had a bad dream. It made me sick to my stomach, so I came in here,” Reagan said dismissively. “Want to go back to bed?”

“Of course I do, but you’re not getting off that easy, love,” Michael said, turning and kissing her on her forehead. Just then his bladder screamed again and he winced, moving to get up. “I’ve got to piss. Stay or go, but my bladder’s going to burst.”

Reagan giggled, holding her hands over her ears as Michael walked over to the toilet and urinated. She didn’t watch him, feeling that was too inappropriate just yet. She still had her eyes closed and ears plugged when he came back to sit next to her. Once again she snuggled into his arm, needing his warmth. He gently nudged her and she unplugged her ears.

“I’m done,” Michael said, his voice humorous. “Are you disgusted now?”

“Disgusted?” Reagan asked in confusion. “By what?”

“By me using the bathroom in front of you.”

Reagan giggled, rubbing her cheek against his arm.

“I didn’t watch or listen, so no – I’m not disgusted,” she said, laughing as she did so. “Besides, you could never disgust me, Michael,” she finished softly, closing her eyes against him.

“I thought I might have. When I woke up and you were gone, I thought that maybe…” Michael trailed off, picking at the lint on the blanket.

“You thought what?”

“I thought you were gone. I don’t know, maybe you regretted it. Again,” Michael finished, his voice somber. The great elephant in the room – well, in the bathroom now. 

Reagan leaned forward and turned to look at him. He was staring down at the blanket still, glancing up at her momentarily as he waited for her response. How much he looked like a little boy right now, sitting on the floor and picking at her blanket. Reagan smiled at him, blinking back tears at this man that had taught her more about relationships and men than she ever thought she would learn. Apparently all men weren't assholes like her father and Kevin. He definitely wasn’t the asshole that she had made him out to be. He had done more for her in the past few days than anyone had ever done for her – and they barely knew each other. Whatever happened between them –or if nothing happened – she knew she had a friend in Michael. She reached over and took his hand, lacing her fingers in between his. He looked down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

“I don’t regret anything with you, Michael,” Reagan said, smiling at him gently. He looked up at her, smiling when he saw her smile.

“Really?”

“Really,” Reagan nodded. “You want to go back to bed? I feel better now.”

Michael’s smiled turned into a grin and Reagan laughed as he stood up. He reached down and grabbed her hand, hauling her to her feet. Reagan gasped when Michael leaned down and scooped her up, carrying her in his arms back to the bed. She looked up at him curiously, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You in a hurry?” she asked, giggling as she did so.

“I like to move fast,” Michael growled, earning another giggle from her. He deposited her on the bed and crawled up to her, nestling himself between her legs as he pulled the blanket off her. Reagan was bared to him, her cheeks heating in embarrassment once again. Michael pushed her back, resting his chest against hers as he looked down at her, propped up on his forearms. Reagan clutched at his biceps.

“Next time you leave me, wake me up, right? I’ll come with you,” Michael murmured, nuzzling her nose with his. 

“You want to come with me?” Reagan asked shyly, running her hands through his hair. Michael continued nuzzling, now moving to her jaw and causing shivers to run up and down Reagan’s body. This man and his mouth…

“I don’t like being away from you, love,” Michael said, nipping at her earlobe. Reagan gasped, turning her head to give him better access. She moaned when he sucked on her earlobe, his lips, and teeth and holy hell his tongue. His fucking tongue. 

“Really?” Reagan asked breathlessly, his mouth turning her brain to mush.

“Really,” Michael whispered, turning her face back to him and kissing her softly. Reagan moved restlessly against him, her body wanting more. 

“Make love to me, Reagan?” Michael asked softly, leaning back to stare down at her. He was asking her to make love to him. Reagan blinked up at him. He continued to blow her mind, the care and consideration he showed to her even now after all they had shared. She nodded, words escaping her as she chewed on her lip and swallowed that damn lump in her throat. Michael grinned again, leaning down and kissing her as his hands roamed over her body. 

How in the hell would she ever go back to Kevin after all this?


	17. Chapter 17

“You awake, love?” Michael asked, his fingers trailing up and down Reagan’s back and shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him tighter, nuzzling at his chest with her nose. She couldn’t get enough of his smell and the feel of his skin.

“Mhmmm.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Reagan instantly stilled, not knowing what was coming. Quite frankly she did not want to talk about Kevin or her family, or really anything outside of this bed to be honest.

“I guess so…” she said noncommittally. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was to come. Michael resumed rubbing her back, his fingers drawing patterns on her skin.

“Why did you write those stories about me?”

“What?” Reagan asked, leaning up to look at him. Michael looked back at her from under hooded eyes. He shrugged against her, dropping his head back on the pillow and staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s nothing. I’m just curious, is all. Out of all the people out there, why me?”

Reagan lay her head back down on his chest, snuggling in once again.

“Why not you?”

“No, seriously, Reagan. I want to know.”

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Reagan mumbled against his chest. “Can’t we do something else?” she wiggled against him and Michael laughed. He swatted her ass lightly.

“You’re only interested in my body, woman,” Michael complained humorously. Reagan wiggled again, sliding her hand down his stomach and towards his crotch, only to be intercepted by Michael. He dragged her hand back up his body, resting it against his chest. “Seriously. Can you tell me why?”

Reagan sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to get out of this explanation so easy. So now did she tell him the truth or fabricate some kind of story?

“Reagan?”

“The truth? Because you are the only red-headed, blue-eyed male I ever found attractive. The only one I can stand so far,” Reagan said, and Michael frowned at her admission. What the fuck did that mean?

“What does that mean?” he asked, turning on his side so that they were facing each other. Reagan continued to stare at his chest, her fingers moving through the hair on his sternum.

“One of the guys in the church we went to had red hair and blue eyes,” Reagan whispered, her throat constricting as the memories came flooding back in. Michael still did not understand and the look on Reagan’s face was not clarifying anything. She looked like she was shutting down, withdrawing right before his eyes.

“Reagan, love, I don’t understand.”

“He was a deacon in the church, like a committee member or something. His father was the pastor. Also red hair and blue eyes,” Reagan whispered, blinking back at tears of frustration that were forming in her eyes. “The son tried to rape me – didn’t succeed – but there was always sexual harassment, and touching, and him telling me things in my ear about how I dressed. It never fucking stopped, even when I told my mother and step-father. Looking back I think it was encouraged, just like the discipline. When I got old enough to fight back, I did.  That caused problems, me fighting back.”

Michael was silent, gently rubbing her arm as he waited for her to finish telling her story, but inside he was fuming. He could feel his blood boiling, his anger at the men that had done this to Reagan. He mentally forced himself to calm down, to still his hands that were shaking with anger.

“One day I watched one of your movies – I think X-Men First Class – and strangely I thought you were cute. No red hair in that one, though. That led to looking you up on the internet, and I continued to think you were cute. Then I saw that you had naturally red hair and of course blue eyes, but I already thought you were cute. And safe, maybe, because I would never meet you,” Reagan chuckled a bit through her emotions. "I even watched _12 Years a Slave_ to see if I could take it and surprisingly I could."  Reagan looked up at him and smiled. "I only hated you a little bit."

Michael grinned back at her, reaching over and rubbing his fingertip along the edge of her nose.

She took a deep breath and looked down again, continuing to push around the hair on his chest absentmindedly.

“So I decided to write stories, see if I could change things about my past or future into the way I wanted,” Reagan said softly, looking up at him and Michael could see the unshed tears in her eyes. “I basically used you to get over my hatred for men that look like you. Maybe to make it okay? I have no idea what I was doing when I did it the first time.  It started about a year ago. I tried to leave Kevin and my family, and….well….that didn’t go as planned.” Reagan finished, looking back down at his chest and taking a deep breath. Michael wondered what exactly happened a year ago?

“Paul…my stepfather….Paul has reddish hair too,” Reagan whispered, not looking at him still. “And blue eyes. I hate him, Michael. I hate what he’s done to my mother and I and I hate what I am when I am around him. I hate myself for allowing this to happen.”

“What can I do to help, Reagan? I feel useless, tell me what to do to help you,” Michael said softly, tilting her chin up so that she would look at him. She shrugged, shaking her head, unable to answer his question.

“I don’t know. I have to go back soon, Michael. I can’t stay here forever,” Reagan said sadly, her lower lip quivering.

Michael knew the feeling – he had to leave tomorrow. He had postponed and rearranged his schedule so many times and couldn’t keep doing it. He was going to lose a job if he kept this up. Something had to give. He knew he wouldn’t be okay with Reagan going back to that situation, but what could he do? They barely knew each other –outside of the bedroom . He ground his teeth together, his anger taking hold. He felt so fucking helpless right now. Reagan was crying softly, her shoulders shaking, and it broke his heart. He pulled her into his chest, holding her tight as she cried. At least tonight – here in this room and in his arms – she was safe. He would figure out tomorrow somehow.


	18. Chapter 18

“Yes, mom, I know. I know!” Reagan whispered furiously, trying to keep her voice down low so Michael wouldn’t hear. She peeked out of the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw him still sleeping. He was laying on his stomach, his arms folded around a pillow, and Reagan wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and curl around him. She couldn’t do that, however, as her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing on the dresser. When she finally snuck off to the bathroom and answered, her mother commenced to letting her have it.

“I’ll be back today sometime….no I don’t know exactly when. What?”

“He’s a friend…no I am alone in my hotel room….I am alone mom!”

Reagan paced back and forth through the bathroom, worrying her fingernail between her teeth. She stopped to stare at herself in the mirror as she let her mother talk. And talk. And talk, and talk…on and on about Kevin, and Paul, and how disappointed they were. Reagan knew furious was a better choice of the word.

“Well Kevin deserved it, mom. Paul does too. I can’t stay there anymore….”

“No. When I get back I am leaving this time. I can’t do this anymore.”

“I don’t care. I’ll get a job, take out a student loan. I don’t want his money.”

“I figured you would say that. When is it going to be enough for you mom? Why don’t you just come with me?”

“Ok whatever. Do what you want. I have to go, mom. It’s almost 10. I have to go. Bye.”

Reagan hung up the phone, her aggravation getting the better of her. She sat down on the floor near the bathtub, leaning up against the cold tile. What the fuck was she going to do now? She knew she couldn’t go back, knew she wouldn’t be welcome and it would only get worse. How the hell she was going to pay for everything, she had no idea. It wasn’t worth it, it simply wasn’t worth it. She would get a student loan, and a job, and another job – anything to get out from under Paul and Kevin. Or she’d quit school. Whatever it takes. Whether her mother came or not was something she simply couldn’t deal with. Reagan was still lost in thought, staring at her cellphone when Michael wandered in the bathroom. She looked up, smiling at him as he smiled back. He instantly brightened things for her, just being in the same room with him lifted her spirits. It didn’t hurt that he looked sexy as fuck with his sweats hanging low in his hips and shirtless, his short hair sticking up everywhere.

“What are you doing, babe?” Michael asked, walking over to her and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Reagan leaned into his leg, resting her forehead against his knee. He gently rubbed her hair, yawning as he did so.

'“My mom called.”

“And?”

“She’s telling me to come home. That Paul and Kevin are furious, and that I am basically shit out of luck as far as money for school.”

“Right fucking assholes, the lot of them,” Michael muttered, sighing deeply. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m leaving, Michael,” Reagan said softly, rubbing her temple and nose against his leg. “I can’t do it anymore, and I don’t care what I have to do, but I am leaving.”

Michael reached down, lifted Reagan up and placed her on his lap. She maneuvered herself so she was straddling him, and he smiled down at her. All she was wearing was his t-shirt, and all he was wearing was his sweats. What a heady fucking combination…

“That’s good, babe! That’s what you need to do,” Michael said, pulling her in tight and hugging her to him. Reagan wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck, playing with the short hair there. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing for you to do,” Reagan whispered, trying to be brave for Michael. She didn’t want him involved, so the less he was - the better. She had to do this on her own, regardless of how it went down. She wouldn’t have Michael forever. “I’ll be fine, Michael, really.”

“I’m worried about you, love,” Michael said softly and Reagan could hear the concern in his voice. “If that fucker did that in broad daylight, what would he do when you’re at your home? Maybe I sho-” Reagan leaned back, interrupting him with a finger on his lips as she shook her head.

“No, Michael. I need to do this alone,” she smiled at him, trying to keep the trembling out her voice. She had to put on a good front or he would follow her home – she knew this. “I need to do it alone.”

Michael stared at her for a moment, his eyes searching hers for something, anything to give him a reason to follow her. In just a few short days he had become very fond of her, and he would be damned if he let her just waltz right out of his life.

“You sure? There has to be something…” Michael trailed off, needing to find some way to remain connected to her.

Reagan shook her head and smiled at him, albeit sadly. She reached up and cupped his cheeks, running her thumbs lightly over his skin.

“Michael, you’ve done more for me than you could ever know. This time that we spent together, it’s crazy. I never thought I would feel this way with a man, or experience the things I have with you, but I did and I am thankful for that. You bought my plane ticket,” she said, giggling now and Michael forced a grin back, not feeling humorous at all. Why the fuck did this feel like she was dumping him?

“I owe you for that, big time, and I want you to let me pay you back, Michael,” Reagan continued, holding her hand over his mouth when he began to protest. “No. I need to, okay?” Michael just nodded, his fingers tightening around her waist as he held her to him.

Yeah, she was dumping him. Fuck.

“What you did for me this whole time – before my presentation, at the airport with…with him…I can never thank you enough. I know it may be rough in the beginning, but I have to do this on my own, okay? You showed me that not all men are assholes, even the ones with red hair and blue eyes,” Reagan said softly, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. Michael reached up and fisted his hands in her hair, holding her to him. He breathed in deeply, his eyes closed as he spoke.

“Stay with me, love,” Michael whispered, his forehead against hers. “Just stay with me, and we’ll figure something out, right?” Reagan smiled at him and nuzzled his nose with hers.

“I can’t, Michael. I need to do this on my own. As much as I’d like to stay with you – and believe me I would – I know I need to be by myself for a while.” Reagan leaned back and stared at him, trying to maintain her composure. She felt like crying and she didn’t fucking know why. This _thing_ with Michael was not a relationship that she should be crying over. It was a few days of great sex and nothing more. Nothing more, and it was time to move on.

“So that’s it, then?” Michael asked, his jaw jutting out and his brow creased. Was he angry? “Will I ever hear from you again?”

“Yeah. I owe you $1177, remember?” Reagan said, trying to lighten the mood that had suddenly went sour. Michael silently lifted her off his lap, standing her up as he stood up.

“I told you to keep the fucking money, Reagan, and I meant it. I don’t want it,” Michael said, walking over to the toilet and glancing back at her. “I’ve gotta take a piss. Can you leave please?”

Reagan swallowed hard, blinking a few times at the change in his demeanor. Just like that the funny, sweet Michael was gone. She nodded her head, and walked to the door.

“I’m going to get my stuff together,” she said, walking out the door. Michael said nothing in return as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

 

 

Michael was sitting on the bed, propped up against the headboard and flipping through the channels on the television. He’d changed into jeans and a t-shirt, his hair still a mess. He was definitely pissed off now, if his jaw flexing and silence was any indication. Reagan stood awkwardly by the bed, not sure what to say or do now.

“I think that’s everything, Michael,” she said hesitantly, looking down at the ground as she fiddled with the strap on her purse.

“Need help going downstairs?” he asked, ever the gentleman. Reagan shook her head and smiled at him. He stood up, dropping the remote on the bed as he walked towards her.

“No, I’m good,” she said, halting him in his tracks. Just walk out the door, walk out the door, walk out the door….

Michael nodded, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Okay, then.”

“Okay, then,” Reagan repeated, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. “Thank you again, Michael. I-” Michael interrupted her, holding his hand up dismissively.

“Don’t, Reagan. We both got what we wanted out of this arrangement, right?” he said sarcastically, half-smiling as he did so. Reagan was momentarily stunned, her mouth gaping as she blinked back at him.

“I didn’t mean to…I mean I hope you don’t think I was trying to use you,” Reagan whispered, her hand coming to her mouth. Did he think that? That she had tried to use him? Fuck! “Do you think that, Michael?” He held his hand up once more, discarding whatever it was she was going to say to him.

“It’s fine, Reagan,” Michael said, walking over to the table and grabbing his cell phone. “What time will your taxi be here?” He looked up at her briefly before looking back down at his phone.

“It should be here already. I’m gonna head down I think,” Reagan mumbled, not knowing how to end this. Why was she suddenly so sad? She barely knew this guy! She once again felt like she was going to cry. She had to get out of this room before she did something really stupid, like jump on him and beg him to let her stay with him. Yes, she had to get the fuck out of here.

She turned, making sure she had everything, and slung her backpack over her shoulders and headed to the door. She pulled the chain lock down and unlocked the door, her hand on the handle and pulled the door open. In an instant Michael was behind her, his hand pushing the door shut as he moved against her. He leaned his head against her, his breath hot on her neck.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, and Reagan blinked back tears. She had to go. She had been dependent on men for too long and she had to stop it. Staying with Michael would only make things worse.  She didn't even know who she was outside of all the fucked up relationships she'd had with men. She didn't even know who she was. 

“Please stay with me, Reagan,” he whispered again, his arms wrapping around her and turning her around to face him. “Just for today. We’ll figure it out, babe. Just don’t leave.”

Reagan smiled up at him, a tear squeezing out even as she tried like hell to not let him see her cry again. She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek, running her fingers through his stubble one last time. He stared down at her, his mouth a hard, flat line.

“I can’t, Michael. I have to go. Please understand,” she whispered, pulling out of his grasp and opening the door once again. She closed the door behind her, wiping at her face angrily as she headed to the elevator. She pushed the button to go down, praying that he wouldn’t come after her. If he did, she didn’t know if she would be able to leave him again. She let out the breath she had been holding when the doors finally opened and she stepped inside, her heart beating erratically in her chest. As the elevator moved down, all she could think about was pushing that button to take her back upstairs, back into his arms. Stop it Reagan! She yelled at herself mentally. The doors opened downstairs and she stepped out, walking out of the foyer and headed for her cab - out of the hotel and out of his life.  


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings - rape and domestic violence

The cab pulled up in front of the house and Reagan sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. She handed the driver some money and stepped out, pulling her luggage with her. It was after 12pm now, the ride having taken over an hour due to a few stops she had to make. During that time she had a lot to think about – what was to come and what had already happened. Her time with Michael still played heavily on her mind, all the experiences she had shared with him. She felt ashamed about having left him the way she did, but she knew it was the right decision. The last thing she needed was to get involved with a man, especially a man like Michael. He had taught her things, and changed her perception of things, but she knew she needed to branch out on her own. Looking down the driveway just solidified that sentiment as she saw Kevin’s car parked next to the house.

Her house was huge – palatial really – her stepdad having spared no expense. Appearances were everything in his eyes, and he had to keep up the dog-and-pony show. If people only knew what went on inside…

Reagan squared her shoulders and began walking down the sidewalk that led to the house. Here goes nothing. Reagan quietly walked in the house, closing the door softly behind her. If she could just get in and out with as much of her stuff as possible, she’d be fine. She was walking up the steps when she heard the footsteps in the hall. She started walking faster, only to be halted by his voice.

“So nice of you to join us, sweetheart,” Paul called up to her, the tell-tale sound of slurring in his voice. As usual he had been drinking. Reagan closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm her nerves.

“I’m just here for a minute, Paul. I am leaving, don’t worry,” she said, stepping on the next step.

“No, I don’t think so. Come down into the family room. We need to have a discussion, your mother, and you and I,” Paul ordered, turning and walking away. He stopped, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t make me come get you.”

Reagan dropped her head to her chest, turning around and heading back down stairs. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible. Stepping off the stairs, she followed the hallway down to the family room and stepped inside. Her mother was there, sitting on the couch silently, and that fucker Kevin was there, reclined back in one of the chairs. He had a smirk on his face and it immediately turned Reagan’s stomach. Inwardly she prayed for the strength to make it through this, to get this over with as quick as possible.

“Nice to see you, sweetie,” Kevin said, hopping up and walking to her. Reagan recoiled from his touch, turning her face to the side as he tried to kiss her.  She could smell the liquor on his breath. Kevin rocked back on his heels, squinting at her. “It’s like that, huh?” He reached forward, grabbing her by her arm and dragged her to the couch, forcing her to sit next to him. “Don’t think I forgot about what happened at the airport. When I get ahold of that bastard you were with, he’ll regret fucking with me.” Reagan continued to look down, averting her eyes from their faces.

“So, Reagan, I hear you’ve had quite the adventure,” Paul began, looking at her curiously as he poured some more brandy into his glass. Fucking alcoholic. “Care to explain? Kevin tells me you were with another man and that you left with this guy. Is that where you’ve been?”

“It doesn’t matter, Paul. I am leaving,” Reagan said quietly, trying to calm her breathing. Just a little longer. If he was true to form then she’d be able to handle this today. It would end today.  She just had to hold out a little longer.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I only came home to get my stuff,” Reagan said quietly, looking up now and meeting his hateful blue eyes. Once again she was reminded how much she hated him, hated this man and his fucking blue eyes and evil stare. “We can just agree to disagree and let me go, or it can get ugly.” Paul laughed, and Kevin stared at her in shock.

“That sounds like a threat. Are you threatening me, Reagan?” Paul asked, coming to stand in front of her as he sneered down at her. She stared at the buttons on the front of his shirt, the disgusting smell of his body wafting in her nose. Just a little longer…

“We had an agreement, Paul,” Kevin said, standing up and glaring down at Reagan. “It’s in the papers, not only the merger, but the wedding shit as well. You know we can’t go forward if this all falls apart, the publicity would kill us.” Paul raised his hand at Kevin, dismissing his concerns.

“Don’t worry. Everything will go according to plan, won’t it Reagan? You two will get married, she’ll continue on at school, and the business will go on as usual. No need to worry, isn’t that right, Reagan?”

“No,” Reagan said softly, not looking up.

“What did you say?” Paul bit out, leaning down and getting in her face. Reagan looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. She shivered at the emotion there, willing herself to remain calm despite it. Just a little longer.

“I said no. I won’t marry Kevin and I won’t stay here. Hell, I may not even finish school,” Reagan said, giggling hysterically as she did so. Here it comes, she thought to herself..

Paul rocked back on his heels now, looking at her in amazement. She had never disobeyed him like this. He walked over to the coffee table and set his drink down before heading back to stand in front of Reagan. Reagan had barely taken a breath when his palm landed on her cheek, twisting her head to the side. She immediately tasted blood, her lip busting against her teeth. She fell down off the couch, landing on her knees, only to have Kevin haul her back up again.

“I think you need to rethink that plan, sweetheart,” Paul said, tilting her face up to his painfully. She knew she would have bruises all over her body after this but this would be the last time. This would be the last time they put their hands on her or her mother. “Kevin, you need to take your fiancé into the other room and straighten her out. I need to talk to my wife,” Paul muttered, turning his glare back on Reagan’s mom. “I’m sure she had plenty to do with this.”

“Gladly,” Kevin snarled, grabbing Reagan by her hair and dragging her into one of the guest bedrooms off to the side of the family room. He pushed her inside and she fell on the floor, shoved against a table. Another bruise there, she thought to herself, rolling over and clutching her ribs. Please hurry, please hurry, please hurry! While Kevin was pulling his belt off, Reagan reached in her pocket and discreetly pulled out her cell phone and pushed the emergency button. She slid the phone under the bed, letting the operator speak. Kevin walked over and kicked her in her stomach and Reagan gasped, rolling over and clutching her stomach now as she screamed.

“Dunworth estate!” she screamed, pushing the phone further under the bed so Kevin wouldn’t see it. He pulled her back by her hair, picking her up and tossing her on the bed before jumping on her. He held her down with his forearm against her back, and she could feel the spit from his mouth dripping out on her face. “Please Kevin, don’t hit me again! Please don’t hit me!”

“You stupid bitch, I’m going to do more than that,” he said, reaching under her and unbuttoning her pants. Oh god please hurry! Reagan pleaded, trying to calm the fear that was gripping her. Kevin pulled her pants down, ripping them off her legs until she was bare from the waist down.

“Let’s see if you fucked around while you were with that asshole,” Kevin growled and Reagan felt his hands on her ass, spreading her. Oh god, oh god! She struggled against him, rolling over and kicking at him. She landed one kick in his chest, pushing him off of her. Kevin glared back at her, and lunged, hitting at her with his belt. Reagan felt the sting of the leather against her thighs, against her shins, biting into her stomach. Kevin lunged once again, jumping and landing on top of her. He held her down with one hand and slapped her once more across the face, stunning Reagan. She shook her head, seeing stars and her ears ringing.

“Now you are going to see what I’ve been keeping from you for so long, sweetheart,” Kevin said, reaching down and pushing her legs apart as he settled between them. Reagan continued to struggle, feeling him unzipping his pants. When she felt his cock against her, she screamed again, thrashing and pushing at him, doing anything she could to dislodge him. He slapped her again, her head once again ringing. This time it was closer to her temple and Reagan couldn’t get her bearings, the room was spinning. She felt Kevin push her legs apart again and he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing against her until her was fully in. Reagan whimpered, the roughness tearing at her insides. She struggled against him, pushing at him with her feet and arms…

Just then she heard a siren, off in the distance but getting closer. Kevin looked up from her, his eyes wild with lust as he looked towards the window. He looked back down at Reagan, knowing what she had done.

“You called the cops, you stupid bitch? Do you really think they’ll do anything?” Kevin sneered, pulling out of her and Reagan whimpered again. It fucking hurt so bad! Kevin pulled his pants up, walking over to the window as Reagan rolled up into a little ball, her body hurting and broken. She heard the front door being banged on and then loud noises ensued, men were yelling, Paul was yelling. Reagan heard Kevin yell in protest before she heard him scream, the sounds of the police dragging him to the ground. The next thing Reagan remembered was a female officer looking down at her in concern, asking if she was okay. Reagan nodded slowly, closing her eyes and succumbing to the darkness.


	20. Chapter 20

Reagan woke up, squinting at the bright lights of the room. She looked around and saw her mother sitting in the chair next to her, wrapped up in a blanket.

“Mom?” Reagan croaked, coughing as she tried to clear her throat. “Mom?” she called out more forcibly. Reagan’s mother stirred, slowly opening her eyes and looking at Reagan. She immediately smiled and hopped up, dragging her blanket with her as she came to sit by Reagan on the bed.

“How are you feeling sweetie?” Reagan’s mother asked, pushing the hair back off her daughter’s forehead and tucking it behind her ear.

“Like shit. How do I look?” Reagan winced – talking made her face hurt. She reached up and felt her lip, feeling the busted area and swelling.

“Like shit,” Reagan’s mom replied, smiling at her daughter gently. Reagan tried to grin back, delighted that her mother's sense of humor of old was peeking out. Her mother sobered quickly, though, her brow furrowed. “Reagan, I don’t know what to say about all of this. I am so sorry. So sorry.”

“Mom it’s okay, really. It’s over now, right? Did the cops arrest them?” Reagan’s mother smiled again, the first genuine smile that Reagan had seen in some time, one that reached all the way up to her eyes.

“Yes. They are both in custody right now, and the sheriff’s office wants us to make a statement. They’ll be coming in shortly I think. Are you up to it?”

Reagan nodded, smiling again as she replied, “Absolutely. I want those fuckers to get everything they deserve, and then some.” She noticed her mom’s demeanor change again, her face falling as she looked at the bed and fiddled with the blanket. “What is it, mom?”

“We’re on our own, Reagan. Paul will never let us have anything,” she whispered, looking at Reagan in fear. “How are we going to make it? I’ve been with him for so long, I don’t know what to do, Reagan.” Reagan reached down and took her mother’s hand in hers, gently rubbing her cold fingers reassuringly. Her mother was so fragile, so weak, and Reagan felt more like a parent than a child right now. It was very sad what her once beautiful and outgoing mother had been reduced to.

“We’ll make it, mom. Don’t worry,” Reagan said, forcing a smile on her face. How the fuck they were going to make it, she had no idea. Paul would absolutely cut them off from everything just as soon as he could. She continued rubbing her mother’s hand, scooting over so that the older woman could lay down next to her. Reagan sat there, rubbing her mother’s shoulder for some time, her mind running as she tried to figure out what to do next. She hadn’t thought this far really, and to be quite honest she didn’t think her plan was going to work.

She had asked the cab driver to take her to a neighboring counties' police station where she had filed a complaint against domestic violence. Luckily she met a female officer there who believed her, and who wasn’t swayed by her stepfather’s saintly reputation. She had asked the officer to come to her house and check for domestic violence and the officer had agreed. Reagan knew she had to go outside her county due to the grip her stepfather had on the local government. They would – had always – turned a blind eye to the going-ons at the Dunworth estate. Today, however, they saw the reality of it. Not only did the neighboring police come by, but that phone call at the end had piqued enough interest to bring out the local police department. All were privy to what was happening in the house. Finally. Now to get it to hold up in court, that would be the tricky thing, knowing her stepfather. Reagan didn’t care – she wanted to be out of that house and this was a step in the right direction.

She shifted in the bed, scooting over slightly so that her mother had more room, but she winced at the pain running through her body. She didn’t even want to lift the covers and see the damage; she could imagine how bad it was. She reached over and picked up her cell phone, powering it on. A call from Mia, one from her brother, and 3 from Michael. He had called her. She smiled a bit sadly, wondering what he was doing now. Most likely headed off to wherever it was he was working next. He hadn’t left a message, but he had texted her a few times. She pulled up the first message.

**M: It’s me. Just checking on you. Text me or call me.**

**M: Me again. I’m flying out to London in a few hours. Stuck at DFW. Wish you would text or call me so I can know you’re okay.**

**M: Why aren’t you picking up? Please text me.**

**M: I miss you.**

Reagan blinked rapidly, smiling at the last text. He missed her. So she wasn’t the only one feeling like shit about leaving him. He missed her too. She contemplated calling him, not knowing if he was gone already or not. She could leave a message maybe? Yeah that’s what she would do. She’d call and leave a message because he was surely on the plane by now. She hit the button to dial his number and rolled over on her side carefully, trying to give herself some privacy from her mother. By the third ring she was sure it was going to voicemail, so when he picked up on the fourth she was shocked.

“Hello? Reagan?” Michael breathed into the phone, his voice sounding relieved.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Reagan said shyly, scooting down on the pillow and cradling the phone against her ear.

“How are you, love? I’ve been worried sick. Why didn’t you answer all my calls?”

“I was…uhh…I was busy getting my things together and moving out, Michael. It’s all good now though, it’s over.”

“What do you mean it’s over? You had no problems, then? With your stepfather and that dickwad fiancé of yours?” Michael asked and Reagan could hear the anger in his voice.

“Yeah..no they were fine, Michael. It’s all over,” Reagan said again, hoping she sounded confident. “Where are you right now?”

“Still sitting in DFW. Flight was delayed again,” he replied. “So tell me what happened then? They just let you go like that?” his voice took on a suspicious edge now, and Reagan winced. “You aren’t lying to me, are you, Reagan?” Just then the door flew open and a nurse walked in, pushing a cart in front of her.

“Hi Ms. Dunworth. I’m here to get your vitals-oh I’m sorry! I didn’t see you on the phone. Want me to come back?” the nurse asked, oblivious to Reagan’s obvious gesture to her to be quiet. The nurse held her hands up in apology, backing away and pulling her cart back out the door. Reagan sighed, knowing Michael had probably heard that exchange.

“Vitals?” Michael asked, his voice calm although she knew he was anything but. “What does that mean, Reagan? Where are you?”

“I’m at a friend’s house, Michael. No biggie,” Reagan lied, hoping it was believable. She heard him snort on the other end of the line.

“I barely know you, but I know you are a terrible liar, love. Where are you? Are you hurt?” Michael asked, his voice rising. “Don’t lie to me, Reagan. I think you at least owe me the truth.” Reagan screwed her face up in aggravation – well as much as she could. She didn’t owe him a goddamn thing – other than $1177. That was it.

“Reagan?”

“Look, Michael, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need it. I’m fine. Things went a little crazy, but it’s all good now,” she lied, thinking about what Kevin had done to her. A little crazy, my ass…

“You’re lying,” Michael replied, his voice low with aggravation.

“And if I am? Look, I don’t owe you anything. Other than that money, I don’t owe you anything. Shit happened, and now we are out of the house. It all worked out, so just drop it okay?” Reagan bit out, her anger rising.

“Did he hurt you again, Reagan?” Michael asked, ignoring her demand. “Tell me for fuck’s sake!”

“Yes! Okay yes! One last time and I am in the hospital, but it’s over, so just drop it! Fuck!” Reagan said, her voice rising as well. She didn't want nor need his pity.

“One last time? What the fuck? One fucking last time, Reagan? What did he do to you?” Michael demanded. She could picture him pacing, running his hands through his hair.

“Don’t you have a plane to catch?” Reagan asked, trying to change the subject.

“You know I’ll cancel this fucking flight and come find you, right?” Michael said, his voice menacingly calm. “Tell me the truth, Reagan. Please.” Reagan sucked in a deep breath, not wanting to rehash the days’ events. “Please, Reagan.”

“I came home, we fought, I got slapped a few times, Kevin tried to-” Reagan winced here, knowing he did in fact pretty much rape her, but she’d keep that to herself for right now. “He tried to do some… some things to me, I fought back, and the cops showed up. They are in jail and I am at the hospital with my mother. Satisfied?” she ground out sarcastically.

“I’m going to fucking kill that bastard. I am going to finish what I started in the garage, Reagan, I swear I am going to kill that motherfucker,” Michael said softly, his voice chilling even Reagan in its’ surety.

“Stop, Michael. Just stop. It’s over. I am fine. My mother is fine. We are moving on, so please let it go and move on.”

“What does that mean, move on? Why can't you accept my help?”

“It’s what it means, Michael. We had our time and I told you already I was appreciative, but it’s over, okay? It’s over. I need to do things on my own – my mother and I need to do things on our own. We need space, okay? This thing with my stepfather, and Kevin – it’s hardly over. There’s going to be legal problems, and I…..look…look I just don’t have time for this thing between us. I don't need your help and I certainly don't need you to rescue me.  I don’t need it Michael, so just stop. Please.”

“Why don’t you just tell me to fuck off, love?” Michael said and Reagan closed her eyes against the hurt in his voice. She could hear it, plain as day.

“I’m not going to do that, Michael,”Reagan hissed sarcastically. She would not get sucked into this, she absolutely would not. 

“Right, you are. After all that – all the past few days – and this is what it is, then?”

“Michael…I…” Reagan stammered, not knowing what to say now.

“Don’t, Reagan. I get it it, right? I get it. I hope you and your mum have a good go of it, and I hope everything works out for you,” Michael said, and she could hear him walking, the noise of the airport filling up the phone now. “Look, I’ve got to get going. Flight’s boarding…”

“Michael…I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry about all this,” Reagan whispered, tears pricking at her eyes."I don't mean to be....well I hope you don't think I am ungrateful for everything. I' m sorry, really I am."

“Don’t be. I’m not. Look, I’ve really got to be going. You take care, Reagan, and I hope everything works out the way you want, right?” Michael said gruffly, and Reagan sniffled, feeling weirdly once again like she was breaking up with him.

“Michael-” she began, only to be interrupted.

“Don’t. I’ve got to go. Talk with you later,” Michael said, hanging up the phone and ending the call.

Reagan sat there stunned for a few moments as she tried to wrap her mind around everything that had just happened. She swallowed the lump in her throat, even now wondering why she was so upset over Michael. It was for the best. Ending it with him was for the best. Just keep telling yourself that, Reagan, she mentally coached herself. She did not need a man right now, even one as nice as Michael. She snorted – especially not one as nice as Michael. She needed to get her shit together and focus on herself before she lost her head over some man. She rolled back over, looking down at her sleeping mother who looked more peaceful than she’d seen her in a long time. She took a deep breath, knowing she had made the right decision for the both of them. Right now it was just she and her mother, and they needed to figure out where to go from here.


	21. Chapter 21

2 days later…

After being discharged, Reagan and her mother stayed with Mia, the only person seemingly not under Paul’s spell. They were unable to go back to their house as Paul and Kevin had been released on bond. There was a restraining order in place under the court hearing, but the women wanted to stay as far away from those men as possible. They were completely broke, save for the tiny bit of money Reagan had stashed in her emergency account. They were sitting at the table in the kitchen, trying to come up with a game plan when Mia suddenly laughed. Reagan looked at her sharply.

“What?” There wasn’t really anything funny as far as she could see. She peered over Mia to the living room, concern on her face as she watched her mother, curled up on the couch. She hadn’t spoken much and had barely eaten. Reagan knew the situation was taking a toll on her, but it couldn’t be helped. It was better in the long run.

“Your ring,” Mia answered, reaching over and grabbing Reagan’s hand. “Sell that bitch, Reggie. I am sure it’s worth a pretty penny knowing Kevin’s dumb ass.”

Reagan looked down at her hand, unaware that she still had that ring on. She quickly pulled it off, dropping it on the table as if it had some kind of disease. She looked at it in disgust, her mind turning. Yeah, she would sell the fucker and use the money to get her and her mom and apartment. A smile spread across her face as she looked up at Mia.

“You’re right. I am selling that fucker. Good idea,” Reagan said, smiling as she took another sip of her Guinness. She glanced back at her mother once more before looking back at Mia. “I need to convince her to sell hers, too.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah. Hers is worth way more than mine. I just don’t know if she will or not,” Reagan said, grimacing.

For whatever reason, her mother was still hung up over Paul. Reagan knew the cycle of domestic violence. She understood it, but it didn’t make it any easier to comprehend why people behaved the way they did. She knew that she would have to keep her mother away from Paul or she would go right back to him in the blink of an eye. That was how strong his hold was over her. Reagan was determined to break that cycle, whatever it took. The only reason Reagan ever stayed was because her mother wouldn’t leave, but now that it was there – the distance from the situation – Reagan was hell-bent on keeping it that way. She’d just have to be strong enough for the two of them for a while…

“I’m going to go to school tomorrow and apply for a student loan, probably take out the whole amount. I’ve got to get this dissertation done so I can be done. Then I can get a better job, but I am going to apply for jobs either way. Maybe an assistantship or teaching adjunct, I don’t know,” Reagan said, gnawing on her fingernail as she looked down at the paper she had been scribbling on.

“You could always ask him, you know…” Mia said nonchalantly, looking at her own nails.Reagan knew the _"him"_ she was referring to.

Michael.

Her stomach lurched just thinking about him.

“No.”

“But why not? You know he would help you,” Mia argued, looking at her friend squarely now. “He bought you a plane ticket and practically rescued you from the airport, Reggie. Seriously.”

“Exactly. I already owe him money – which I will pay back – and I can’t ask for more. Besides, I don’t need to get involved with him right now…” Reagan trailed off, the memory of him pressed up against her, begging her not to leave. Fuck that was hard, leaving him like that. She mentally shook herself, the images of them in bed together flooding her mind. She felt her cheeks flushing, and she stood up, grabbing her beer and chugging it as she reached for another. She cracked the lid off on the counter top and looked at Mia apologetically.

“Sorry. It’s a habit.”

“I have a bottle opener, you drunk,” Mia giggled, tossing back her wine. She looked at her friend closely, the wine glass at her lips. “Do you know how transparent you are, Reggie? You were thinking about him weren’t you?”

Reagan glared at her over her bottle, fidgeting as she stood by the sink. She turned and looked out the window, staring out into the dark.

“Reggie? What is it?” Mia asked softly, coming to stand by her friend. Reagan felt her chin start quivering, the events of the past few days finally catching up to her. She shook her head and took another sip, trying to push that fucking lump back down her throat. If she could just get a nice buzz then she wouldn’t feel so much..

“He was so nice to me Mia. At first I hated him, like really hated him, but then I got to know him and…well…we did things and he’s so different from all the guys I have ever been around. Even when I did things that would have gotten me slapped by Kevin, Michael never did and it scares me.”

“Why? Why does that scare you, Reggie?” Mia asked, rubbing her hand up and down her friend’s arm.

“Because he’s a man, because he's nice. I don't fucking know,” Reagan sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She took another long sip from her beer, swallowing it like it was water.

“You don’t trust yourself, do you?” Mia asked softly, smiling gently at her friend. Reagan shook her head, her shoulders slumping.

“I don’t trust my judgment. He’s the first person I slept with. I never thought it would be like that for me. You know how it was with Kevin for the most part, but you don’t know everything, Mia,” Reagan slumped over the sink, holding her head in her hand. “I am so ashamed of myself, so ashamed that I let myself be treated like that.”

“Reggie, it wasn’t your fault. We both know how DV goes. We know it, and there’s nothing that makes us immune to it. You’ve been dealing with it for years, and now you’ve broken free,” Mia said softly, pulling Reagan’s hair back into ponytail. “Do you know how unbelievably proud I am of you? You’ve put an end to it, Reggie. Can’t you see that?”

“It was because of Michael,” Reagan whispered, looking at Mia from the corner of her eye. “Does that sound stupid?”

Mia shook her head, smiling as she did so. “That man could turn straight men gay, so no, it doesn’t’ sound stupid,” Mia giggled, causing Reagan to glare at her. Mia sobered up, trying to contain her smile. “Why do you think that’s stupid?”

“Because it means I made a decision based off of him. Like _oh look this guy with red hair and blue eyes is not an asshole, so let me make this crazy decision and sleep with him_. Doesn’t that sound insane to you?”

“Now that sounds insane, Reggie. Let’s go to my room and sit down and we’ll talk this over,” Mia said, dragging her friend to her room and plopping down on the bed. Reagan sat down dejectedly, tipping her beer up for another drink. It was almost empty. Fuck but she was going through them fast. Mia propped her feet up on the headboard as she continued talking.

“I think you don’t trust your judgment. It has nothing to do with Michael, and you are putting too much emphasis on that alone. What if he is just a nice guy and you had great sex and that’s it? Or maybe he’s an asshole that hasn’t shown his true colors yet. Who knows? Either way – no one’s asking you to marry him. The only thing he did was have incredible sex with you and kick Kevin in the balls. He didn’t make any decisions for you, or sway your decisions. You did that on your own.”

“But I would have never made that decision if Michael had not been a part of the equation,” Reagan countered.

“So? If it wasn’t Michael and it was someone else, then what would you say? I think the right guy came along at the perfect moment and it just happened to be fucking Fassy and it opened your eyes,” Mia said, giggling again. “It doesn’t make you any less capable of making decisions. Fuck, you left him when he was asking you to stay. How the hell you did that, I’ll never understand.”

Reagan swallowed down the rest of her beer, standing up unsteadily on her feet and walked into the kitchen to grab another. She briefly checked on her mother, sighing when she saw she was asleep. Reagan flipped off the television, and walked back into the bedroom. Mia was still laying on her back with her feet propped up against the headboard. Reagan sat back down on the edge of the bed, sighing loudly.

“I think you finally made the right decision and it had nothing to do with Fassy. If it wasn’t him, I would hope that it would have been someone else. Either way – you are out of the shit hole relationship and house with those fuckers. If you don’t want to have anything to do with Michael ….even though I think you’re crazy, but whatever….then don’t. That simple,” Mia continued, sitting up to take a drink of her wine.

“Tell me about him…”

Reagan turned and looked at Mia, trying to figure out what game she was playing. Mia twisted her head back and looked at Reagan, smiling still.

“I just want to know why it still affects you to talk about him. I mean…that is….if it’s only sex, you know,” Mia said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Reagan reached over and grabbed a pillow, throwing it at her and laughed herself. She set her beer down on the floor and laid back on the bed, her head next to Mia’s. Memories of Michael flooded her brain and she smiled to herself, remembering it all.

“You know what I miss about him, Mia?”

“What?”

“The fact that I could stand up to him. I cussed him out repeatedly, and was a totally different person around him, and he let me. Like deep down, I knew if he wanted to do something to me he could, but I knew he wouldn’t. So then I pushed his buttons, I think, just to see how far I could go,” Reagan said softly, lightly running her hands along her belly. “He pissed me off but it wasn’t like Kevin. Michael made me want to fight back, but not like Kevin. With Kevin I felt helpless, and trapped, and disgusting. I felt so dirty around him. With Michael I felt wanted, Mia,” Reagan said, rolling over on her stomach and staring at her friend. “He wanted to be with me, like he actually wanted to be with me,” Reagan said incredulously.

“I don’t think it was just sex with him, either, and you and I know he could have fucked anyone he wanted. Even after he found out I was a virgin, he didn’t toss me away or make fun of me for being inept, and believe me I was. The second time- after we got here - it was different. It was all night and it was perfect and I never wanted to leave from that bed…” Reagan trailed off, her mind wandering back to that night. Mia laughed, snapping her fingers in front of her friend’s face.

“Hey hooker! TMI okay?” Mia laughed, and Reagan laughed with her.

“Yeah right,” Reagan said. “You are the biggest hooker I know, so whatever!”

“So you do miss him, then?” Mia asked softly, rolling back over on her back. Reagan sighed, rolling over herself and staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then?”

“Then what, Mia? What should I do? Call up Michael Fassbender, tell him I am broke and that I want to stay in bed with him all day?”

“You can have a relationship with him, Reagan. Nothing is stopping you but you and it sounded like he wanted to see you more,” Mia said, ignoring the anger in her friends’ voice.

“Well I don’t want to. I need to have a relationship with myself first. Everything has been so fucked up for so long. Look at my mother out there for fuck’s sake,” Reagan ground out, sitting up and grabbing her beer. She took a big swig, grimacing as she felt the not-so-cold beer go down her throat. Nothing was grosser than hot beer. Reagan stood up, intending to head to the kitchen to get another beer. Mia reached out and grabbed her by the arm, holding her still.

“What?” Reagan asked impatiently, wanting to get out of this room and this conversation.

“Even if it’s not Michael, you can live your life, Reagan. You are a woman and you’re beautiful and you are accomplished and you survived something crazy. Crazier than anyone would believe,” Mia said softly, and Reagan blinked back tears once again. “You can live your life, Reagan. It’s okay for you to be you and do the things you want, okay? If that includes a sexy-ass movie star who wants your ass, then so be it. If not, then oh well.” Reagan looked down at Mia, dissolving into giggles as she stared at her friend, Mia waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“You’re crazy, Mia,” Reagan said, sitting back down on the bed and laying back.

“Yeah I know but who the fuck cares?” Mia laughed, pushing Reagan’s shoulder. Reagan pushed her back, smiling still. She was getting sleepy, the beer having finally done the trick.

“I need to go lay down I think. Got a lot of shit to do tomorrow,” Reagan said, slowly sitting up. Yep, the room was spinning now so she needed to lay down before she puked. She lay back down on Mia’s bed, pulling the covers out from under her and wrapping up in them. “I’m sleeping here tonight…” she mumbled, rolling over in the sheets and snuggling in.

“Whatever..” Mia whispered, falling asleep herself.


	22. Chapter 22

3 months later…

Reagan closed down her laptop, rubbing her shoulders as she tried to find some relief from the knotted tension there. She had presented her dissertation and now all that was left was to defend it.  One more hoop to jump through and then she would be done. She slumped over, leaning her head on her folded up arms.

“You alright, Reagan?” she heard a friendly voice call from the doorway. She looked up and turned around, a smile on her face as she saw it was Mark. Mark was a research assistant in the biochemistry PhD department. They had run into each other at the library and Mark had saved Reagan’s life one day, helping her get her candy bar out of the vending machine. She giggled now, thinking about how he had shaken the machine for her, ultimately allowing 4 candy bars to fall down into the chute.  Saved her life that day, he did.

“I’m good, Mark. How are you?” Reagan said, smiling up at him. He walked over and pulled up a chair, scooting close to her.

“Whatcha working on?” he asked, looking over her papers scattered all over the desk.

“The usual. Defending my dissertation, failing at life – you know…” Reagan trailed off, smiling again as Mark laughed at her.

“You’re crazy. You’ll be fine and you know it. When is it?” he asked, picking up one of her packets of paper and looking over it.

“Next week,” Reagan moaned, laying her head down again on her folded arms. “It’s going to be the death of me, I swear…”

Mark laughed and stood up, moving behind Reagan and began massaging her shoulders in a friendly way. She moaned and sighed, rolling her head around to give him better access.

“If you ever quit your biochem stuff you should be a masseuse..” she mumbled, sighing again as his hands worked their magic.

“Yeah…I don’t think so,” Mark said, squeezing her shoulders once more before stopping. “How much longer you got here?”

“I am done now. I think. Hell I don’t know. Why?” Reagan asked, looking up at him.

“I was thinking of taking a trip into Dallas and going to the Drafthouse, maybe catch a movie and some drinks. Wanna come?”

“Absolutely!” Reagan replied, standing up and gathering her things. “What time are you leaving?”

“We can go now if you want? It’ll take us about 45 minutes to get there,” Mark replied, helping her slip her backpack on her shoulder. “Want me to carry something?” Reagan shook her head, sliding her purse on her shoulder.

“I got it, thanks though. Can I run home real quick and drop things off?”

“Yeah, want me to meet you somewhere or come pick you up?” Mark asked as they began walking to the doors leading out from the library. They stepped outside, the cool fall air almost biting. It was getting close to winter, and while it never really got cold here, the wind could be something fierce in Dallas.

“You wanna come pick me up? That way I can leave my car at the house,” Reagan said as she hit the button to unlock her car. Mark opened the back door for her and Reagan leaned in, dropping off her backpack and laptop. She closed the door and moved back to the driver’s side, opening it as she turned to Mark.

“Yeah that’s fine. Is an hour good?” Mark asked, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He pressed the button on his key fob, the lights on his truck illuminating the cab as he unlocked the door. “I’ll go home and change and swing by and grab you on the way?” Reagan nodded, smiling as she sat down in her seat and started her car.

“See you in a few, then,” Reagan said, closing the door as Mark nodded in agreement. She buckled up and pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. A movie was exactly what she needed. And drinks – anything to get the fuck out of that library and that school, at least for a little while.

* * *

 

 

A little over two hours later, Reagan and Mark were sitting in their seats, waiting for the movie to start. They had a bit of a disagreement in what they were going to see. Mark wanted to see _Dracula Untold_ and Reagan wanted to see _The Judge_. After a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors Mark won and they were watching the previews as they waited for the movie to start. Reagan sipped on her Guinness, thoroughly enjoying the fact that you could watch a movie and drink all at the same time. She could sleep here if they let her, she thought with a giggle.

“Is it good?” Mark asked, gesturing to her drink and food. She had ordered the hatch green chile dip and chips and yes, it was excellent. She nodded her head at her food, her mouth full.

“Take a bite,” she mumbled around her mouthful, wiping off her lips as she swallowed. Mark leaned over and grabbed a chip, scooping some dip on it and popped it in his mouth. He chewed, groaning as he looked at Reagan.

“Damn. That is good. I should have ordered that,” he said, smiling at Reagan. “This pizza is not so great.”

“Told you so,” Reagan teased, popping another scoop in her mouth. She reached over and grabbed a slice of his pizza, grinning at him as she did so. She enjoyed being around Mark. There was no weirdness between the two of them and there had never been any hidden agenda on either side. If anything, they were like brother and sister more than anything else. Besides the fact that Mark was very good looking – and smart as hell – Reagan felt very comfortable hanging out with him. The lights began to go down low and Reagan grabbed her beer, leaning back in her seat as the movie began to start. The previews began to roll and Reagan nursed her beer, the effects of the alcohol causing that nice warm feeling. It didn’t last long.

An advertisement for X Men – Days of Future Past came on and Reagan almost choked on her beer.

She coughed and sputtered, leaning forward as she grabbed her napkin. Thank goodness the lights were dim or Mark would have seen her face drain of color as Michael flashed across the screen, bigger than shit.

“You alright, Reagan?” he asked, patting her on the back. Reagan nodded, unable to speak as she was still trying to not choke on her beer. “Take another drink, wash it down.” He slapped her on her back a little harder and she glared at him, holding up her hand for him to stop. She took another long drink, forcing the liquid down her throat as she stared up at the screen.

There he was.

Michael.

She had purposely avoided television and magazines and anything else that might even remotely have him attached to it. She had tried not to think about him these past 3 months, but it was futile. That man was stuck in her brain and she had literally woken up in a cold sweat dreaming about him more than once, thinking about the nights they had spent together. She leaned forward, her eyes intent on the screen as the advertisement came to an end. She could feel something akin to sadness when the next preview started, her tiny glimpse of Michael gone.

“You good now?” Mark’s voice called her, interrupting her thoughts. She turned to look at him and nodded.

“Yeah. Went down the wrong pipe,” she said, laughing nervously. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, intent on shutting it down but for whatever reason her fingers began to scroll through her contacts. There was his name. She’d not deleted him yet and she didn’t know why. She was the one who had ended it - whatever " _it_ " was that they had. She had broken it off. She stared at his number for the longest, only stopping when Mark nudged her.

‘It’s starting, turn it off,” he whispered, and Reagan shut her phone off. She sat stiffly in her chair, her beer propped in her lap as her mind wandered. She couldn’t even get into the movie, her thoughts wrapped up with Michael. What was he doing right now? Where was he? Did he still think about her? She snorted to herself, causing Mark to look at her strangely. She shook her head, dismissing it. She took another drink of her beer, trying to get her mind to stop thinking. It was like her phone was burning a hole in her pocket. Maybe if she just texted him a little “hi, how are you?” she’d be through? Just to see how he was....

Just then it occurred to her that she still owed him money! Whether he wanted it or not, she owed him money and she had to get it to him. Having a reason to contact him –even if it was a manufactured reason – Reagan stood up hastily, needing to get out in the hallway so she could text him.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered to Mark, squeezing by his legs and crouching down low to not block anyone’s view. She moved quickly out of the theater and into the hallway, making her way over to a bench and sat down. She felt her heart beating faster and she chewed on her nail, wondering what to text him. Hi? I have your money? Or should she call him?? Her leg started bouncing, nerves getting the best of her. Maybe she shouldn’t call him or text him? What if his number was changed?? Fuck! Just do it, Reagan! Just do it, her brain screamed at her. Just fucking do it. She owed him money, after all. Reagan pulled up his last text to her.

**M: I miss you.**

That was the text she had gotten in the hospital and the last time she had spoken with him. Fuck. Here goes nothing.

**R: Hi. It’s Reagan. Not sure if this is still your number, but I wanted to let you know I had your money. Okay thanks. Have a good day.**

She sent the message, immediately regretting it. Have a good day?? Really??? She sat there for a few moments, chewing her nail nervously. If he was across the globe he might be asleep. What if she had woken him up? Fuck!! Her phone buzzed in her hand and she almost dropped it, the vibration scaring the shit out of her.

**M: I told you to keep it.**

Reagan started grinning, her face splitting wide open! His number hadn’t changed and he just texted her back! Her phone buzzed again..

**M: How are you?**

Her face was seriously going to crack from how big her smile was.

**R: I am good. I need to pay you back. Please.**

**M: No. Keep it.**

**M: How’s school?**

Reagan continued to smile. He was asking her questions!!

**R: Almost done. Defending my dissertation next week and then I am done.**

**M: Proud of you!**

Reagan could feel herself blushing, her cheeks aching with how big her smile was.

**R: Thank you.**

**M: You’re welcome.**

Reagan continued to chew on her fingernail, looking up as some people passed by, heading into their theater. She looked back down at her phone, her smile faltering as she didn’t get another text from him. Should she text him again? He said keep the money…

**R: Where are you?**

She couldn’t resist. Fuck it.

**M: San Diego. You?**

**R: Dallas. Alamo Drafthouse.**

**M: What is that? Bar?**

**R: Movie theater**

**M: You watching X Men?**

Reagan laughed out loud, looking up sheepishly as she noticed some people staring at her. She looked back down at her phone and texted him again.

**R: Dracula**

**M: Hmm…you wound me deeply**

**R: I’m sorry**

**M: Is it playing now?**

**R: Yeah**

**M: You’re missing it?**

**R: Yeah**

**M: Ok I’ll let you go then**

No! Reagan screamed in her head!! She scrambled, trying to think of some way to keep him on the phone. She hadn’t smiled this big in a long time! Fuck!! She was still wracking her brain when her phone vibrated again..

**M: Can I call you later?**

Reagan let out the breath she had been holding, tapping her feet up and down in excitement! Abso-fucking-lutely!! God she could hardly sit still! She wanted to squeal, to scream – something!

**R: Sure**

**M: Ok. 2-3 hours then?**

**R: Sounds good**

**M: Okay talk with you then**

**R: Ok**

Reagan closed down her phone and stood up. She slapped her hands to her cheeks, trying to calm down the heated feeling there. He hadn’t forgotten about her and he was going to call her! She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her heart beat before heading back in the theater. Really she wanted to blow this movie off and go call Michael, but she knew she couldn’t do that to Mark. Reluctantly she opened the door to the theater, stepping back inside the darkness. She made her way over to her seat quietly and sat down.

“Did you fall in?” Mark whispered.

“Pretty much,” Reagan whispered back, her heart still racing as she thought about what she might have just fallen into with Michael.


	23. Chapter 23

Reagan was chewing her fingernail and glancing down at her phone every two seconds waiting for Michael to call. Mark glanced over at her, grinning as he did so.

“You expecting a call?” he asked her good-naturedly. Regan looked up at him and then glanced right back down to her phone.

“Yes.” Just then her phone buzzed in her hand.

“Shit!” Reagan squeaked out, looking at Mark once again.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she looked back down at her phone.

**M: Call now?**

**R: Can you give it another 45 minutes to an hour? I’m sorry…**

She did not want to have a conversation with Michael while in the car with Mark. Might be kind of awkward and she didn’t want to explain either man to the other. She wished Mark would hurry up and fucking drive!

**M: Not very patient…**

**R: I know, I’m sorry!**

**M: K**

“Who is it?” Mark asked, looking over at Reagan as the light from the phone illuminated the cab. “Boyfriend?” Reagan quickly looked at him, glaring as she did so.

“No!”

Mark raised an eyebrow at her as he maneuvered the truck into the turn off lane taking them back home. Maybe another 30 minutes or so..

“How much longer?” Reagan asked impatiently. Mark looked at her sharply, eyebrow still raised.

“Well I had a good time, too, Reagan. Thanks for asking,” he said sarcastically, looking back at the road.  Reagan looked back at him apologetically and placed her phone face down on her lap.

"I’m sorry, Mark. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just someone that I have been wanting to talk to for a while and…” she trailed off, not knowing what else to say. “I really did have a good time and I am thankful that you asked me to come.”

Mark glanced at her again before turning back to the road. “So is it a guy?”

“Why?” Reagan asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Because I have thought about asking you out, but if there’s someone already there then I’ll move along,” he said bluntly. Reagan gasped, leaning against her door as she stared at him. His face was hard and his jaw tense in the dim light of the truck console. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Reagan asked innocently. She did not want to have this conversation right now. She really did not. Michael would be calling at any moment.

“Are you dating someone?” Mark asked and Reagan continued to stare at him. Things just got really weird. She could feel it in the air, the tension between them palpable.

“No,” Reagan answered honestly.

“So…” Mark coaxed, eyeing her once again. “Is this something you’ve thought about? With me?” Reagan worried her lower lip, trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t hurt his feelings. She really liked Mark. He was someone she’d come to rely on. He was funny, and considerate, and smart – and of course he was very attractive. Had she thought of him in that way? No, not really, if she were to be honest with herself. She didn’t want to lose their friendship over this either.

“Honestly – Mark – I haven’t really thought about anyone in such a long time. I come from a….a weird place. You know some of my family history – or you’ve heard rumors – but there’s a giant mess that I am still trying to clean up. I really don’t have time for a relationship. I’m not in a healthy place yet, for myself or for anyone else,” Reagan said, praying he’d understand. He glanced at her and then glanced down at her phone. “I don’t want to lose our friendship over this either, Mark.”

He looked up at her and sighed. “I figured as much,” he said, smiling at her a little. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”

“I’m sorry, Mark,” Reagan smiled apologetically back at him. He waved his hand dismissively, smiling at little bigger. “Don’t apologize, Reagan. It’s cool,” he said, although Reagan was sure she heard rejection in his voice. She did not want to hurt his feelings and this made her sad. He was a very good friend and she didn’t want to damage the relationship.

“It’s not going to affect this, right?” Reagan asked, gesturing in between the two of them. “You’ re a good friend, Mark, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Damn I just got friend-zoned!” Mark said, laughing as he did so. Reagan laughed with him, leaning over and punching him in the arm. He grinned at her and shook his head. “We’re good, Reagan. No worries.”

They continued driving in companionable silence, neither speaking as they listened to the radio. When Mark pulled the truck onto Reagan’s road, she had to keep herself from sighing out loud with relief. When he pulled into her driveway her heart started beating faster, knowing that she was that much closer to talking with Michael.  Mark parked the truck behind her car and unbuckled, hopping out and opening her door for her. Reagan smiled at him and hopped out.

“Such a gentleman,” she said, laughing up at him. He shrugged and closed the door behind her.

“I try. It’s a Texas thing, you know,” he teased her back. “I had a good time, Reagan. Don’t worry about that other stuff. Already forgotten, okay?”

“Mark, I’m sorry, you know…I just..” Reagan began, only to be interrupted.

“Really, Reagan. It’s done. No biggie,” Mark said, walking back around to his side of the truck. “I need to get going. See you Monday?” Reagan sighed, not feeling very good about the way things were going but she couldn’t do anything about it at the moment.

“Yeah. See you Monday. Thanks for tonight, Mark. I enjoyed myself,” Reagan said softly, trying to repair whatever had been broken in the last hour. Things just felt weird to her…

“Yep,” Mark said, hopping in the truck and closing the door. Reagan walked to her door and opened it, waving once as Mark started to back up. He tipped his ball-cap at her and waved before leaving out of her driveway. She closed the door behind her, locking it and flipping on the foyer light. It was the sound of whimpering that drew her attention down the hallway and she followed, her heart beating in her chest. She walked into the living room and found her mother curled up on the couch, her shoulders shaking as she cried.


	24. Chapter 24

“Mom?” Reagan asked, sitting by her on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Reagan’s mother glanced up and Reagan could tell she had been drinking. Just another thing on the long list of issues and addictions her mother had. Her drinking had been getting gradually worse ever since they had moved out of Mia’s and into the duplex. What started as an occasional glass of wine moved to daily glasses of wine to bottles of wine and now to whiskey, if the empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table was any indicator.

“How long have you been drinking, mom?” Reagan asked gently, reaching over and patting her mom on her leg. Her mother slapped her hand away and glared at her daughter.

“Why do you care? You’ve been out on your little date, enjoying your life, and I just stay here. All damn day. Wasting away!” she bit out and Reagan recoiled, looking at her mother in confusion.

“What? I don’t under-“ Reagan began, only to have her mother reach over and clumsily slap her across the face. Reagan gasped, standing up and holding her cheek in her hand. It wasn’t a hard slap, but it was shocking to say the least. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“You are what’s wrong with me. It’s always been you causing all the problems, always causing problems,” Reagan’s mother moaned, laying down on the couch and curling up in a ball. “I’d still have my house, and my things, and my husband if it wasn’t for you.”

Reagan blinked rapidly, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. Even now she was getting blamed for this shit. How she hated Paul and Kevin, and right now her mother. She just wanted to escape this whole fucking situation.

“I just want to go home…” her mother mumbled, her words slurring as she began to doze off.  A few moments later and Reagan heard the deep, even breathing of a drunk that had fallen asleep. Reagan sat there for a moment, a huge lump in her throat. When would this nightmare be over?

She angrily wiped her face, her tears pissing her off, and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and covered her mom. Reagan scooped up the empty bottle and took it to the kitchen, tossing it in the trash before she headed to the backyard. She sat on the swing, her emotions swirling through her. God how she just wanted to run away – leave her mom, leave school, leave Denton – all of it. Leave all her responsibilities behind and just do whatever the fuck she wanted to do. She jumped when her phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down. It was Michael. She swallowed hard, trying to force the lump down and calm herself as she pushed the answer button.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice a tad strained.

“Hey girl. How are you?” Michael asked, his voice melting her. Oh how she had missed that voice.

“I’m good. You?” Reagan said, trying to calm herself still.

“You alright, Reagan? You sound a bit off,” Michael said and Reagan inhaled deeply, closing her eyes in an effort to not break down.

“It’s just the usual. School, work, just stuff,” she hedged, not wanting to burden him with anymore of her problems.

“I’m not buying that, but okay,” Michael said. “How was the movie?”

“Alright,” Reagan lied. She didn’t know what happened in the movie as she was too preoccupied with thinking of him.

“Should have seen X-Men,” Michael teased and Reagan laughed. “Much better movie.”

“And why’s that?” Reagan teased back.

“I hear the guy that plays Magneto is excellent in this movie,” he said and Reagan could hear the grin in his voice.

“I heard the same thing about Wolverine. Hugh Jackman and all,” Reagan said, giggling as she did so. She heard Michael snort on the other line and she laughed again.

“You’re always trying to hurt my feelings, aren’t you?” Michael whined, earning another giggle from Reagan. She pushed off on the swing, rocking it back and forth as she stared out into the darkness.

“Have you missed me at all?” Michael asked, completely taking her off guard.

Should she be honest? That she had tried to avoid everything related to him, or that she was dying for him to call her, or that she had woken up from dreams about him? What was she supposed to say? She was still such a fucking mess and had such a long ways to go…

“Reagan? You there?” Michael asked softly.

“Yeah,” she whispered back into the receiver.

“Yeah, what? You’re there or yeah you missed me?” Michael asked, his voice hopeful.

“Both,” Reagan said softly, stopping the rocking of the swing with her foot.

“Really?” Michael asked and she could tell he was pleasantly surprised – if not shocked even.

“Yeah.”

“You’re shitting me. I thought you hated me?”

Reagan snorted now, kicking at the dirt with her foot. “I never said I hated you. Well, in the beginning but you know why,” she said matter-of-factly. “I was just going through some stuff –still am – and I thought it would be better for you to not have to deal with me.”

“Still making assumptions about me and what I do, or what I would do, aren’t you, love?” Michael said softly. “I’ve not stopped thinking about you, Reagan. Or worrying about you, and wondering if you are okay.”

Reagan bit her cheek again, struggling not to cry. She sniffled a bit and immediately held the phone out away from her, not wanting him to hear. This was not how she envisioned this phone call going.

“Reagan? Are you crying?” Michael asked softly and Reagan sniffled again.

“No,” she mumbled, her voice trembling.

“Liar,” Michael shot back. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“I don’t know,” she said and she really didn’t know what was wrong. How could you choose when _everything was wrong_? Take your pick of the many dysfunctions that were her family…

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.”

“I hate hearing you like this, Reagan, and I feel so fucking helpless right now,” Michael said, an angry tone to his voice. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

“At home? What does that mean?”

“My new home – our apartment – just me and my mom. She’s drunk and passed out on the couch right now,” Reagan said, laughing hysterically through her tears.

“Your mom’s drunk?”

“Yep.”

“Wow, Reagan, I’m sorry, babe. I hate that all this is happening to you,” Michael said sympathetically and Reagan felt the lump growing in her throat.

“I’m falling apart, Michael,” she whispered, no longer able to hold it in. Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot, silent reminders of all the shit that was still going on. She leaned back on the swing and brought her legs up, drawing them to her chest and rested her head on her knees.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Want me to come to you?”

“No. It’s okay. I’m just having a bad day, I think,” Reagan replied, wiping at her eyes with her fingers.

“You’ve had a bad couple of years, love. Nobody would blame you for feeling the way you do, least of all me,” Michael said softly, his voice soothing. “You are one of the strongest people I know, Reagan. Don’t you ever forget that – how strong you are. You believe that, right?”

“I don’t know. Everything’s falling apart and I don’t know how to put it back together. It was never together in the first place and now it’s even worse,” she cried, her voice breaking once again.

“You’ll figure it out, sweetness. You are more than capable and I have every faith in you,” Michael said and Reagan hiccupped, her tears finally slowing a little. His voice, his words – whatever it was - had calmed her down and now she was just feeling sleepy. She was emotionally and physically drained.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Michael whispered, conspiratorially.

“Uhm-hmm,” Reagan mumbled, her eyes closed as she listened to him.

“I was never booked for your hotel. I dug through your papers when you went to the bathroom on the flight to Tampa and found out where you were staying and rearranged my place,” Michael said, his voice hushed. 

“Really?” Reagan asked, a small smile on her face now.

“Really. You think it’s weird?”

“That’s kinda stalkerish, don’t you think?” Reagan said, giggling a bit. She heard Michael chuckle.

“Well you’re the first person I’ve stalked like that, just so you know,” he said and she could hear the grin in his voice.

“Yeah right,” Reagan snorted. No way was that true.

“Yes, right,” Michael argued. “I didn’t even know where your room was til that first night I followed you upstairs. Once I found out, I had mine changed. Luckily there was an available room.”

“Wow,” Reagan said. She was actually a little shocked right now. Had he really gone to all this trouble for her?

“Wow is right, love,” Michael said huskily and Reagan felt that heat immediately pool in her lower belly. Memories of those nights flashed back in her mind. She closed her eyes against them, trying to stop them before they took over her brain. “I want to see you. Can I?”

“I don’t know, Michael,” Reagan said, worry taking root once again.

“Why?”

“Because my life is shit right now, and you don’t deserve that.”

“Reagan…” Michael warned. “Why do you insist on assuming things about me?”

Reagan sighed again, loudly, and looked back out over the flat land that was Denton. It was cloudless tonight as usual, the stars bright and the moon full. She lifted her head and propped her chin up on her knees, clutching the phone to her ear.

“Are you dating anyone?” he asked bluntly.

“Of course not!” Reagan answered, a little too quickly.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Me. I am the problem,” Reagan argued, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingertips.

“Can I make that decision? Please?” Michael asked, a little sarcastically. “Why can’t you just let whatever it is happen? Why did you text me today?”

“Because I owe you money.”

“Liar,” Michael countered.

“What?” Reagan asked indignantly.

“I called you a liar. That’s not why you called me and you know it, love,” Michael said, his voice husky again. Reagan snorted, dropping her legs back on the ground and sitting up straight.

“Why else would I contact you?” she argued, her jaw jutting out in stubbornness.

“Because you miss me just as much as I miss you,” Michael replied. She swore she could hear the smirk in his voice, the smug bastard.

"I do not," she argued, albeit weakly.

"You do so," Michael said, his voice low and seductive. "You miss the way I kissed your neck, don't you? The way I took your earlobe between my teeth and nibbled, the way my hands felt on your body. Tell me I'm wrong, Reagan."

"You're wrong," she whispered, desperately trying to maintain some control, some sanity in the midst of this conversation.

"Liar. You miss my mouth on your body, at your breasts, pulling at your nipples, on your stomach," he murmured and Reagan felt herself getting wetter by the moment. The cool night air did nothing to alleviate the heat that was radiating through her body at the moment. There was one thing that could remedy that - one person - and he was in California. Fuck.

"You miss the way it feels when I slipped inside you, don't you, girl? You miss how tight you are around me, how wet and warm and snug it is," he continued and Reagan had to remind herself to breathe, her heart beating erratically. "You miss the way I would grab your leg right below your knee and pull it up around me as I sank into you.. over, and over, and over again. Don't you?"

"Yes," Reagan whispered, unable to resist him now. Her lips were parted and she was practically panting already.

"You're wet, aren't you?" he asked, his voice dropping even lower if that was possible.

"Yes," Reagan whined, squeezing her thighs together in need. She was aching now, her body needing something, needing him.

""I'm coming to see you, Reagan. Sooner rather than later," Michael said, his voice washing over her like warm whiskey. "Until I get there, you will think about what I've just said to you. You'll think about it and imagine what it's going to be like when I get there. When I run my hands over your perfect body, and over your perfect breasts, and around your perfect ass as I slam into you, you understand me?"

"Michael..." Reagan whined again, rubbing her thighs together again trying to find some kind of release.  She closed her eyes and moaned, the memories of him nearly pushing her over the edge.

"Don't you do it, girl. You will not make yourself cum until I get there. Do you hear me?" Michael ordered, his voice gravelly.  "Don't do it, Reagan. I want to be the one to make you cum. You hear me?"

"Yes...yes I hear you..Michael," Reagan said breathlessly, her eyes still closed as she chewed on her lip. She was desperately trying to calm herself down, to quell the fire that was burning at her core.

"Good girl. Text me your address for home and for your school, love. Do it now, Reagan," Michael ordered. Reagan complied, opening her eyes and texting it to him as quickly as she could.

"Done," she whispered, her breathing slowly a bit.

"Good. Now, go get some rest, love. I'll be in touch," he said nonchalantly. How could he be so fucking calm right now??

"When are you coming?" Reagan demanded, her tone aggravated with her unmet need. She heard Michael chuckle on the other end of the line and it only aggravated her more.

"I told you - sooner rather than later," he said, the cocky bastard.

"Fuck, Michael!" Reagan grumbled, her anger and frustration getting the better of her.

"Oh, I intend to, girl. Bet your sweet ass on that," Michael said, and she knew he was grinning. She could hear it in his voice, the asshole. "You get some rest, love. I'll be there soon."

"Whatever," Reagan bit out. She was so wound up and so pissed off and all of it - all at the same time. He was such an asshole!

"See you soon, sweetheart," Michael said softly, chuckling as he did so. Reagan pushed the "end call" button, pissed off beyond measure. How in the fuck was she supposed to go to sleep after this conversation?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

Monday morning…

Reagan pulled into the campus, her brain already fried and she hadn’t even started yet. She was still highly agitated from her phone call with Michael, with no resolution in sight. After that phone call, Reagan hadn’t heard from him all weekend and it had pissed her off to no end. She had texted him a few times, hoping to get a response but none came. Fucking fuck.

So, she had literally spent the whole weekend worked up – sexually frustrated and mentally exhausted. The combination was not entirely ideal. She popped a few Aleve and took a drink of her coffee, her head pounding already. She grabbed her things and got out of her car, nearly slamming the door behind her. Fuck but she was pissed off and it was only 10am. She walked up to the side entrance to the clinical area, and opened the door. Down the hall was the lab/workspace area where she needed to be for the rest of the day as she went over her dissertation defense. She walked past the clinic area, nodding a cursory “good morning” to Ms. Evie, their secretary. She was just not in the mood today, even for someone as sweet as Ms. Evie was.

“Morning, Reagan. I’ve got a delivery for you,” Ms. Evie said, smiling as she walked into the file room behind the desk. She came back out with a large bouquet of red and white roses. Reagan stopped and gaped, her eyebrows coming together in confusion. Who would send her flowers?

“Do you know who they’re from?” she asked Ms. Evie. The older woman shook her head, smiling still as she pulled the card out from the flowers.

“They arrived this morning, around 9, but here’s the card, sweetie,” she said, handing the card to Reagan. Reagan dropped her bag and grabbed the card, quickly ripping it open. She read the card, her face breaking out into an enormous grin as she saw who it was from.

**Can’t wait to see you…Michael**

She looked up at Ms. Evie and then back down to the card, smiling still.

“Boyfriend?” Ms.Evie asked, sitting back down at her desk. “Haven’t seen you smile that big in a while.”

“Not a boyfriend, but someone very special,” Reagan replied, grabbing the flowers. “I’ll take these down with me then.”

Ms. Evie smiled at her again and turned back to her paperwork. Reagan carried the flowers and her things down to the lab area, setting them on her desk. She couldn’t stop grinning. He had sent her flowers. She had never gotten flowers – ever. She sat down at her desk, staring the flowers as she pulled out her phone. Even if he didn’t text her back she was going to let him know that she appreciated the gesture.

**R: Thank you for the flowers. I’ve never gotten flowers before.**

She set her phone down on the desktop and reached for her laptop, setting it up to begin working. She pulled out stacks of paperwork, situating them all over her desk – articles, research papers, and statistics – all the things she needed to go over once again. She needed to have a good grasp of her proposal and therefore would be able to defend herself properly. Her phone buzzed and she dropped her paper in her excitement over it possibly being Michael.

**M: Never? I need to make up for lost time then. Glad you liked them.**

**R: I have been texting you all weekend**

**M: I know**

**R: You know? Why didn’t you text me back?**

Reagan scowled, looking down at her phone in aggravation. Was he ignoring her on purpose then?

**M: Been busy**

**R: Wow**

**M: Been busy trying to get to you silly girl**

**R: Hmmmm**

What an asshole, she thought to herself bitterly. He couldn't have sent her a tiny little text back? Something? Anything?!

**M: What are you doing right now?**

**R: You trying to change the subject?**

**M: No. Curious..**

**R: At school, working on my defense. You?**

**M: Thinking about you**

Reagan gasped, his words hitting her right in the stomach. She had that ridiculous grin on her face once again, her cheeks heating up. How could he do that just by sending her a text? She chewed on her lower lip, debating on sending him the next text. Curiousity got the better of her…

**R: What are you thinking about?**

**M: It’s indecent. I’d rather show you…**

He was such a tease! She was getting antsy once again, her body reacting to just the thought of him doing “indecent” things to her!

**R: Then hurry up and get here…**

**M: Careful what you wish for, love…**

What did that mean? Why wouldn’t he just hurry up and get here!

**M: What time will you be done?**

**R: Why?**

**M: So I can call you**

She was hoping he was going to say that he was going to be here at that time, or something along those lines….fuck but she was disappointed…

**R: The clinic closes at 2, leaving then**

**M: Ok**

Okay? Okay what!! Gosh he was the most frustrating man ever!

**R: When are you coming?**

**M: Soon** …

**R: You are such a jerk. OMG**

**M: I know**

**R: I have to do work now.**

**M: Ok**

Reagan was fuming! How the fuck did he manage to piss her off so badly? How could she be so pissed at someone and want to jump them – all at the same time? God he was infuriating!

**R: I’m going now**

**M: You already said that**

**R: I hate you**

**M: I like you**

Reagan stomped her foot below her desk, her lips twitching in anger as she hurriedly texted him back.

**R: OMG! Ass**

**M: See you soon**

**R: When???????**

**M: Patience, love**

**R: whatever**

Reagan closed down her messages, knowing he was going to infuriate her even more if she kept it up. She was so worked up now that she didn’t think she was going to get anything done. He was such an arrogant asshole!


	26. Chapter 26

It was 143pm. 

She couldn’t take it anymore. She’d gotten some work done, but the majority of her time was spent eyeing her iPhone maliciously, one moment hoping he would text her and the next cursing him for not. He had her worked up so badly and she didn’t know what to do about it. She was ready to drive to a sex store and buy a damn vibrator just to calm herself down. That man had her so worked up and it was pissing her off to no end. She shoved open the door, stumbling out into the bright sunlight and squinted her eyes. She had her arms full with her bags and the flowers, and her backpack was slung over her shoulders. She was so pissed as she stomped her way to her car, the flowers slipping. The fucking vase was so heavy.

“Fuck!” she yelled, adjusting the flowers so that she could see. She very nearly dropped them for real this time, her breath stopping as she saw Michael leaned up against her car. The first thought that came to her mind was how the fuck did he know which car was hers? She shook her head, sucking in a deep breath as she remembered to breathe. He stood up straight and began walking towards her, that fucking shark grin on his face.

“Hello, love. Let me take those from you,” he said, reaching for and taking the flowers out of her hands. Reagan stood there gaping, anger and shock and everything else coursing through her body.

“Don’t I get a hello at least?” he asked, winking at her. She pursed her lips and glared at him.

“How did you know that was my car?” she demanded, ignoring that little nagging voice that told her to jump on him. He grinned even bigger and looked around at the empty parking lot before looking back at her and cocking an eyebrow. 

‘Well this is the building you gave me directions to. This car has got not only a Dallas Cowboys sticker on the bumper but a Denver one as well,” he said, smirking at her. “There’s also no other cars here, so I just used the process of elimination basically.”

Reagan squinted at him, blinking a few times. What a smug bastard he was. She huffed, rolling her eyes at him as she dug in her purse to fish out her keys. 

“How did you get here?” she asked, not looking at him as she unloaded her things in the car. 

“A cab brought me. I called first to make sure you were here, love,” Michael said, leaning up against the car again. She caught a whiff of him –his cologne, his scent – and she very nearly fell down, her knees buckling at being so close to him. “Ms. Evie is quite helpful, letting me know that you were still here.”

Reagan stood up and looked at him sharply, her mouth opening and closing again.

“She did that?” Reagan muttered, still glaring at him. She reached over and pulled the flowers out of his hands and placed them in the backseat, buckling them up so they wouldn’t spill out. When she no longer had anything to put in her car, she stood up awkwardly, glancing at Michael before looking down again. 

“Come here, babe,” Michael murmured, reaching out and grabbing her hand. He pulled her to him, situating her between his legs as his hands rested on her hips. “Don’t be mad at me. I wanted to surprise you.”

Reagan fiddled with the edges of his jacket, looking up at him briefly. She just couldn’t think straight when she was this close to him. He looked just as perfect today as the last time she saw him, even more gorgeous if that was possible.

“Are you happy to see me?” Michael asked, bringing one hand up and rubbing it against his cheek. Yep, she was melting. She watched, mesmerized by his lips and eyes as he continued to rub her hand against him. Her breath hitched when he opened her hand and placed a tender kiss on her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. “Well?”

“Yes,” she whispered, words failing her as he continued kissing her hand, his lips traveling down to her wrist. He kissed her wrist right above her hand, the spot where her heartbeat was going wild. He smiled again and dragged her hand back to his chest, clutching it against him. With his other hand he cupped her cheek, his long fingers brushing against her hair. He pulled her to him, and Reagan closed her eyes in anticipation. He hovered over her lips, their breaths mingling and Reagan thought she was going to hyperventilate.

“Breathe, sweetie. Breathe,” Michael whispered, lowering his lips to hers. Reagan sighed and moaned – all at the same time – when she finally felt his lips on hers. God she had missed this, had yearned for this! She melted into him, her hand clutching at his chest, trying to hang on. Michael kissed her softly at first, his lips moving slow over hers. Reagan moaned again, her fingers twisting in his shirt as she pulled him to her. He groaned now and kissed her more forcefully, his tongue plundering her mouth. Just when Reagan thought she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers as he sucked in air between parted lips. 

“Shit I have missed you,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against hers. They were both still breathing hard and both still pressed against each other, their bodies as close together as they could possibly get them while leaned up against the car. Reagan shifted from one foot to the other which resulted in her stomach being pressed against him even closer and he hissed. She could feel his erection through his jeans, pressing at her belly. She giggled, purposely moving her body in such a way that she would rub against him. He opened his eyes and stared down at her, his mouth a hard line as the muscle in his jaw flexed.

“Don’t…” he warned, and Reagan sucked in a breath. The intensity in his eyes was almost overwhelming. The man was a master at eye-fucking, there was no doubt in that. He stood up and pushed her away from him, holding her at arms’ length. He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up everywhere. It was longer now and Reagan ached to run her fingers through it. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he tugged on his jeans, trying to make himself comfortable as best as possible. Reagan bit at her lower lip, her eyes involuntarily drawn to his crotch. He shook his head at her, warning her again.

“We need to get out of here,” Michael said. "Where are we going?"

"What?" Reagan asked, looking at him in confusion. 

"Can we go to your house, or do I need to get us a room?" Michael asked in exasperation as she was not following his train of thought. 

Reagan's cheeks heated once again as she caught his meaning. 

"No, we definitely can't go to my house. We need to get a room....if you want..." Reagan stammered, fumbling over her words. 

"Of course I do," he said, walking over and opening her door for her. "You drive. I have no idea where the fuck I am or where to go." He walked over to the passenger side and opened his door, sliding in. He peeked up at her from inside the car and raised his hands. "Well?"

"Oh yeah, right," Reagan mumbled, grabbing her keys and getting in the car. She was so nervous! Michael was on edge and it was only making her nervousness worse. She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye, her breath catching when she saw he was staring at her. His eyes were incredibly intense, and she had to look away, so strong they were. "Is everything okay, Michael?"

"Of course," he murmured, his voice husky. She looked at him again and quickly turned her eyes back to the road.

"You're making me nervous," Reagan whispered, hesitating before putting the car in gear. "I feel like something's wrong?"

Michael chuckled, drawing Reagan's eyes to him once again. She relaxed when she saw he looked a bit more relaxed, his eyes not as intense.

"Nothing's wrong, babe. I just forgot how fucking sexy you are and I was debating with myself over whether to fuck you now, or wait til we got to the room," he said quietly and Reagan gasped. Straight to her loins, she felt the heat pool there. She was ready to tell him that right here, in the car, right now was perfectly fine with her. She looked over at him, nibbling her lower lip....

He laughed and shook his head at her. Reagan blinked back at him.

"Let's go, babe. We've waited this long, we can wait a little while longer," Michael said, looking around her car. "Besides, this car is not big enough for what I want to do to you." He looked back at her and winked, smirking as he saw the tell-tale flush on her cheeks. She got flustered again, aggravated even, feeling like a mouse that was being toyed with by a damn cat. She glared at him once before looking back at the road. She slammed the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards a hotel.


	27. Chapter 27

“So how are things?” Michael asked, looking out the window and taking in the city of Denton. He couldn’t say that he’d ever been to this part of Texas. It was nice, tall trees and large, open fields.

“Good. Much better actually,” Reagan replied, her eyes on the road.

“What happened with your stepfather and _him_?” Michael asked, refusing to say the man’s name. Reagan looked at him out of the corner of her eye, noticing how his jaw tensed just thinking about it.

“We’ve got another court appearance in a few weeks. They were both brought up on charges of domestic violence and resisting arrest. Both were released on bond, but we have temporary restraining orders until we go back for the next hearing.”

“Well hell,” Michael huffed, “don’t you feel safe? Little piece of paper protecting you?”

Reagan turned to glare at him before turning back to the road. He glared right back at her. 

“What do you know about it, Michael? You live in your little fantasy world where everything is handled for you. You never have to get your hands dirty,” she hissed, her anger getting the better of her. “We are doing the best we can, my mother and I. We went from having everything to having nothing. Please don’t preach to me.”

“Not what I was doing, love,” Michael said apologetically and Reagan felt he was sincere. “I only meant that if they did that to you before, what’s to stop them now? A piece of paper? I just think it’s bullshit.”

“I agree, but my stepfather is very, very wealthy and very well-known in our community. Even my lawyer says it’ll be a hard-fought battle. That’s why I want to hurry and graduate and leave here, move somewhere else,” Reagan finished, her voice low.

“You’re still scared, aren’t you, love?” Michael asked, leaning over and rubbing her tense shoulder with his fingers. She briefly flinched at his touch, something passing over her face momentarily and he wondered about that. 

“Yes,” she whispered, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Want me to drive?” Michael asked softly and Reagan turned to look at him once again, her face tense.

“Would you?”

“Sure. Pull over, love,” Michael said, smiling softly. Reagan complied and pulled off to the shoulder, stopping the car and placing it in park. They quickly switched seats and both buckled.

“Just tell me where to go, right?” Michael asked, pulling the car back out into traffic. “If we got lost out here in the wilderness, I’ll blame it on you,” he teased, looking over at Reagan but she wasn’t smiling. She was pressed into her seat as far as she could be, her now too-tiny frame stiff as she stared out the window.

“Babe?” Michael asked, reaching over and rubbing her shoulder again. “Tell me where to go, right?” Reagan looked at him and nodded, her skin pale and face strained.

“We can go find a hotel but I have to go home for a bit, make sure my mother is okay,” she whispered, her eyes blank. It was like she had just checked out, the previous conversation gone.

“Sure,” Michael said, although he wasn’t sure at all. He wasn’t sure he should be taking her to a hotel, wasn’t even sure if this was a good idea, but what could he do now?  Reagan successfully guided him into the city and to a hotel, and she left him there, the plan being that she would show up later when she had squared away things with her mother. He watched from the balcony of their room as she drove away, wondering if she was actually going to come back or not. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did not.

* * *

 

 

Reagan pulled into the driveway at her house, her heart skipping a beat as she saw a police car parked in the driveway. She quickly hopped out, grabbing her cell and rushing into the house. She saw her mother there sitting on the couch, her face red and puffy from her tears. There were two police officers sitting near her on the couch and one was writing on a small notepad. All 3 looked up at Reagan as she walked in, and one of the police officers – a female –stood up.

“Reagan?” she asked, stepping forward as Reagan nodded.

“Yes. What’s going on here?” she asked, looking over at her mom. “Mom? What’s going on?”

“Reagan – ma’am – if you could go ahead and have a seat by your mother, we have some things we’d like to go over with in regards to the domestic violence case that is pending," the female officer said, nodding at the couch.  Reagan walked over to her mother and sat next to her, looking at her strangely. The female cop walked over and sat on the chair closet to the couch, the male officer still sitting by Reagan’s mom.

“So, Reagan, we’ve talked with your mother and there have been some changes to the temporary protective order that we currently have for you both,” the female officer began, looking at Reagan’s mother now. “Your mother had decided that she wants to drop the charges she has filed against your father-”

“Stepfather,” Reagan interrupted bitterly, glaring at her mother. “Are you insane, mom? Have you forgotten what he did to you? What he did to me?” Reagan’s mom sat still, not saying a word as she stared down at her lap. Reagan was breathing fast, her heart beating in her chest. She could not believe what was happening. She simply could not.

“So, Reagan, what that means is that your mother will no longer be under the protection of the court order. She can go back to her former dwelling with her husband as she wishes,” the female continued as Reagan continued to stare at her mother in disbelief. “Will you be dropping yours, Reagan, or do you want to maintain it?” Reagan turned to look at the female officer, her face hard and angry.

“That bastard Kevin raped me. He beat me and he raped me. My stepfather – her wonderful husband,” she sneered at her mother now, “beat the shit out of me and my mom quite often. How she can forget that and go back, I have no idea,” Reagan said, shaking her head in disgust as she turned to the officer. “I will most certainly be keeping my order intact and want to move forward with pressing charges for anything I can. I won’t be a part of this any longer, mom,” Reagan said, turning back to her mother. “One day he will kill you. Mark my words and I won’t be there to protect you.”

“You don’t know him like I do, Reagan,” her mom whispered quietly, still not looking at her daughter. Both police officers stood up now, standing awkwardly in the middle. Reagan continued to glare at her mother, the whole situation completely ridiculous.

“Ladies, is there anything else we can do for you?” the female officer said, looking between both Reagan and her mother. Reagan’s mom shook her head and Reagan shook hers as well.

“You can stand by your phone. He’ll kill her – mark my words,” Reagan said vehemently, her anger at a boiling point. “When you go back, I am done with you mom. Don’t call me and don’t expect me to help you.”

“Ladies,” the female officer began only to be interrupted by Reagan as she held her hands up.

“No, it’s fine. I am just hear to get some clothes and then I am leaving. She can do what she wants,” Reagan said, walking out of the room and down the hall to her room. She slammed the door behind her, hot tears of frustration running down her face. Her phone buzzed and she looked down at it in aggravation.

**M: Everything ok?**

Fuck! She threw her phone on the bed angrily. She didn’t even want to deal with him right now, that’s how pissed off she was. She knew he was waiting for her at the hotel, though, and so she hurriedly threw some clothes and personal items into a bag and walked out. She marched past the police that were still in the living room going over paperwork with her mother, and headed out to her car and climbed in. She started the car and slammed it into gear, peeling out of the driveway as she headed back to the hotel.


	28. Chapter 28

Michael opened the door at the timid knock, his grin fading when he saw the look on Reagan’s face. She marched past him and threw her bag down before flopping down on the bed herself. She lay back, her arm tossed over her eyes. Michael closed the door and locked it and then walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

“Didn’t go so well?” Michael asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Once again he thought about the wisdom of this trip. He knew Reagan had some fucked up shit going on, and quite frankly he didn’t have the time for this kind of relationship. Despite all his misgivings, there was something about Reagan that he couldn’t resist, something that kept her on his mind these past few months. He had to get her out of his system - maybe that was it - and then he could leave and forget about her.

“Babe?” he asked again, lying down next to her on the bed. He lazily trailed a finger down the underside of her upturned arm, causing her to jerk her arm away and roll over. Michael sighed deeply. It was going to be a great fucking night…

“My mom dropped the restraining order and she’s going back to Paul,” Reagan whispered, her voice strained. Michael sighed again and leaned over her, wrapping his arm around her as he pulled her back into him.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Michael whispered against her hair. “What does that mean for you?”

“Nothing’s going to change for me,” Reagan said bitterly, her whole body tensing. “Kevin is going to pay for what he did to me, for what he’s done to me. I can’t let him win, Michael. I can’t,” she whispered again, and Michael gritted his teeth together, anger rising again.

“What did he do to you, Reagan?” he asked quietly. He knew she wasn’t telling the truth before. She wasn’t telling him something. “When you left me and went home, what did he do to you?”

“Nothing. The usual,” she said curling up in a ball and pulling away from him. He could feel his anger rising. He couldn’t take all this bullshit. The lying, the covering up – all of it was too much. He was ready to leave, to get back on a plane and forget all this. Even Reagan. He didn’t know if this was all worth it.

He sat up, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at Reagan. She looked broken, frail and weak. His brow furrowed as he saw the point where her shirt had ridden up above her jeans, leaving some skin visible. A faint mark, a line of some sort. He leaned over and pushed the shirt up higher, seeing more lines marking her side and up her back. He lightly traced the thin lines, his mouth flattening in anger as Reagan flinched and crawled away from him. She stared back at him with wary eyes, pulling her shirt down and covering herself.

“What are those marks?” Michael asked quietly, staring at the ground as he tried to maintain his composure. He was met with silence which only infuriated him more. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“Godamnit, Reagan! What are those marks?” he said, quite loudly. Reagan scooted even further, climbing off the bed and scurrying over to a chair. She curled up in the chair and covered her ears, closed her eyes and began whispering something to herself.

“Fuck!!” Michael yelled, standing up and kicking over the chair nearby. He began pacing, running his hands through his hair as he did so. “How can I help you, Reagan? Tell me what to do because I am fucking lost. You called me, I am here, thinking everything is going to be good, and now this shit. I can’t take this, Reagan.” He walked over and stood in front of her, leaning down and placing his hands on the arm rests as he stared at her. She still would not look at him, her eyes tightly shut against him. Michael sucked in a deep breath, trying to relax.

“I’m sorry. I’ll calm down,” Michael said, trying to be soothing. “You have to talk to me, Reagan. Please talk to me.”

He grabbed one of her hands and pulled it down, lacing his fingers with hers as he knelt down in front of her. With his other hand he covered their joined hands, lightly rubbing her skin.

“Reagan – babe – please look at me,” Michael said softly. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Reagan warily opened her eyes, and Michael thought it a cornered, wild animal looking back at him. He smiled at her gently and brought her hand up to his lips, lightly kissing the back of it.

“I’m sorry I got so loud, baby. Talk to me please,” he encouraged her, kissing her hand once again. Reagan dropped her other hand from her ear and sucked in a deep breath, a shaky deep breath.

“I’m sorry I freaked out. It’s just….it’s just bad stuff…and I don’t know what to talk about,” she whispered. “It’s disgusting and I am disgusted with myself, and I don’t want you to look at me _like that_ ,” she finished, her chin trembling with emotion. “I don’t want you to think I am dirty.”

Michael pulled her into his arms, lifting her up and carrying her back to the bed. He laid them both down and pulled her so that she was lying next to him, her head resting on his chest.

“Is this alright?” he asked her, pulling her tight against him. She nodded against him, chewing on her thumb as she did so.

“Good,” he continued, brushing her hair off her face with his free hand. “I want you to understand that I could never be disgusted by you, Reagan. There’s nothing you could do that would ever make me feel that way. I care about you, girl. You’ve been on my mind ever since you walked out on me 3 months ago. Trust me when I say that.”

Reagan lay still against him, her body stiff as a board but he felt like she might be relaxing a bit against him.

“You have no idea how happy I was when you texted me, love. I missed you. I re-read those fucking stories,” he grinned now, “and even watched a Dallas Cowboys football game. If nothing else, I consider us friends, right?” he asked cocking his head so he could look down at her. “Reagan?”

“Yeah..” she mumbled against his chest, her body relaxing a bit more. He could feel the tension leaving her little by little.

“Can you talk to me, tell me what happened? I want to help but I don’t know how.”

“Can I talk to you as a friend? Not someone that I’ve…someone who’s…you know what I mean?” Reagan asked hesitantly and Michael felt the tension come right back in, her shoulders stiffening underneath his hand.

“Absolutely. Friends,” Michael said, waiting with baited breath.

“I left you that day and I went home, right?” Reagan began.

“Mhmmm,” Michael murmured, not wanting to interrupt her.

“When I got home, they were all there. My mom, Paul, and K…Kevin was there also,” she stammered, her breathing getting faster. Michael closed his eyes in aggravation, his anger rising inside him once again. He was going to kill that motherfucker with his bare hands.

“I tried to go upstairs, but Paul….Paul wouldn’t let me. He took me into the family room and we had a discussion about my future. He slapped me and then Kevin dragged me to another room and hit me with a belt repeatedly. The buckle or the strap cut me – I’m not sure – and that’s the marks I think. I didn’t know I had them,” she said, leaning back to look up at him. “Are they bad?”

Michael erased any emotion off his face, shaking his head at her.

“No, not bad, love,” he said, forcing a smile. Yes they were fucking bad. If this was over 3 months ago and he could still see the marks then yes, they were fucking bad. Reagan smiled back a little and laid back down.  He immediately felt guilty for lying to her, but what would it help to make her feel even more self-conscious?

“So before I got home, I had stopped at the police station outside of our county and told my story to a female officer. She actually believed me, and said they would send someone out. I knew it would get bad. So I just had to hang on until they got there. When Kevin threw me on the bed, I had pushed the emergency button on my cell phone and slid it under the bed.”

The wheels in Michael’s head started turning. How would the belt leave such marks if she were dressed? He threw her on the bed? His stomach turned, his mind going somewhere he didn’t want it to when he realized what might have happened.

“I managed to fight him off for the most part, but not before he…not before….” Reagan stumbled here, words escaping her. She started shaking against him, her fists balling up on his chest.

“Don’t, love,” Michael said, pulling her tight to him and cupping her face against his chest. “You don’t have to say it, sweetheart.”

Michael was furious. If you could see red – if that were possible – he was seeing it right now. He wanted to get up, drive his ass to wherever these fuckers were, and beat them to within inches of their sorry lives. A restraining order and jail time was not sufficient for what they’d done to this girl lying in his arms.

“He raped me, Michael,” Reagan whispered, finding her voice again. Michael closed his eyes at that image, his jaw flexing as he ground his teeth together. “He made me do so many nasty things over the years, but that was the first time he’d done that.”

Michael continued to lay still, wishing that she would stop talking as it was turning his stomach. He was completely disgusted. Not at her, but at what she had gone through at the hands of these assholes. She was such a different person in Florida, a strong woman and feisty, but the mention of these fuckers reduced her to this. He was beyond pissed.

“You’re disgusted aren’t you?” Reagan whispered, removing herself from his side and sitting up. She took one look at his face and laughed bitterly. “I knew you would be.” She crawled off the bed and stood up, grabbing her bag off the floor and walking over to the table where her cell phone was.

“I’m going to go, Michael,” she said quietly, her face averted. “I’m sorry I got you involved again.”

“Reagan. Stop,” Michael said, sitting up and staring at her. “Don’t go anywhere, babe.” He stood up and walked over to her, standing before her. Reagan looked down at his bare feet, barely breathing.

“I’m not in any way disgusted with you, babe,” Michael said, reaching down and tilting her chin up. She had such a defeated look in her eyes, a look of self-disgust, and his heart ached for her. “I admire you, sweetheart. I’ve told you before just how strong I think you are, and now you’ve surpassed even that.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her chin trembling at the look in his eyes. He was making it so hard for her to not just fall apart, right here and right now. Michael shook his head at her, smiling gently.

“You do not apologize, Reagan. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, lightly tracing her jaw with his thumb. “You are an incredible young woman, Reagan. One that I don’t deserve the privilege of knowing. I’m disgusted at what happened to you, at the fact that no one stopped them - but never with you.” His jaw hardened and his finger stilled on her chin as he continued. “I am beyond furious, and I wish I would have killed that fucker that day in the garage.”

"I'm sorry I am such a mess, Michael," Reagan continued. "I know on the phone we talked about things and I know you probably want to..." Reagan trailed off, shaking her head as she looked back down at the ground. "I'm sorry, Michael. I just can't...can't do that with you...I'm sorry."

Michael sighed and pulled her to him, crushing her against his chest as she broke down. Again he felt just how frail she was, just how damaged she was after all of this. How he missed the girl that was cussing him out in Florida. He honestly didn't know if he could deal with this right now. He was so pissed off and felt so damn helpless - and he didn't like to feel either of those emotions. Leaving and forgetting about it all would be the best thing to do, he knew that, but he also knew that he hadn't lied when he said he'd been thinking about her these past few months. It had hurt like a bitch when she had left him both of those times. For whatever reason, he felt an immediate connection with Reagan, and he knew if he left he'd still be thinking about her and worrying about her. He took another deep breath, carefully leading her back over to the bed and helping her lay down.

"Let's just lay down for a while, shall we?" Michael asked her gently, helping her remove her shoes. She nodded numbly and scooted over to the middle of the bed.

"Will you lay with me, please?" she asked in a tiny voice, not looking at him. Michael smiled a little, his heart warming at her request.

"Of course, babe. It's what I'm here for," he said, climbing in next to her. He lay down and she snuggled into him, laying her head on his chest. He felt her relax around him, her too-cold body seeking his warmth. He wrapped his arm around her and gently rubbed her shoulder, contemplating what he should do next. When she wrapped her arm around him, clutching him tightly, he smiled again. She had this way of making him feel incredibly protective of her, this need to make sure she was safe. He quite enjoyed that feeling, if he were to be honest. Very rarely did he have female company that actually needed him. They wanted him, of course, but did they need him? Not most of them, and not any of them in the way Reagan needed him. It was in that moment that he decided he was going to do whatever he had to do to get that girl from Florida back, to put that fire back in Reagan's eyes.


	29. Chapter 29

Michael sat in the chair near the window, a bottle of beer in his hand as he watched Reagan sleep. Not for the first time did he question what the fuck he was doing here, his brain telling him to pack his shit up and leave. He did not need this shit in his life right now – no matter how much he wanted this girl. He didn’t need it. He didn’t have time for it. He took another sip of beer and stood up, quickly removing his shirt and flinging it over the back of the chair. It was hot as fuck in this room. Fucking Texas heat, he thought to himself, his aggravation rising. Even at this time of the year it was still fucking hot. He walked over to the ac unit and angrily turned it down lower, hoping that it would do something to quell his heated disposition. He couldn’t quite figure out what he was mad about though. He knew he was furious about what had happened with Reagan – he knew that. The other thing, though…. was he really that selfish and shitty that all he cared about was sex? He came down here to visit, anticipating sex with Reagan - and he obviously wasn’t having it. He could have stayed where he was and easily picked up some girl from somewhere and they’d be fucking right now, but he was here instead. Sitting alone and drinking as he watched Reagan sleep. Was he pissed that he wasn’t having sex? Or was he disgusted at himself at the fact _that he was so pissed that he wasn’t having sex_? Had he really sunk that low?

No. He could admit that he wanted to make love to her, but the overriding issue was that she needed help and he didn't know how to do that. In fact, he was afraid he was making it worse. The girl had serious problems and he didn’t need to add to them. He sighed deeply and leaned forward, beer in hand. He took another sip, and his mouth set in a hard line of aggravation. When she woke up he would tell her he needed to leave, that this wasn’t going to work out. It just wasn’t what he wanted to be involved in right now - he was out of his element and he didn't like feeling helpless. Bottom line.

He finished up his beer and stood up, dropping the empty bottle in the trash along his way back to the bed. He stripped off his jeans and slid in the bed next to Reagan, smiling slightly as she rolled over and snuggled into his side. He immediately caught himself, his brow furrowed as he thought about why the fuck he was smiling after the thoughts he was just having. He lay flat on his back, his arm thrown over his eyes and groaned as Reagan wrapped her arm around his chest and tucked it up underneath him. How the fuck was he supposed to sleep when she was holding him like that? He lay there for as long as he could, his jaw ticking in aggravation. Why the fuck was he so pissed off?? He took a deep breath and tried to gently remove Reagan’s arm, gritting his teeth as she pushed her nose into his chest and rubbed against him.

“Goddamnit,” he whispered furiously in the dark, his jaw hurting from tensing it so much. He had to get out of this bed. He’d sleep on the floor, the chair – fucking anywhere so that he didn’t have to lay there next to her and not be able to touch her. He not-so-gently this time lifted her arm up and quickly slid out and onto the floor, sitting still for a moment to make sure he hadn’t woken her. When he thought it was all clear, he quietly grabbed his pillow and threw it on the floor before gently tugging at the blanket at the end of the bed.

“Michael?” he heard Reagan call out, and he stopped, closing his eyes in aggravation. He turned back around and stared at Reagan who was now sitting up, staring in his direction in the dimly lit room.

“Yeah?” he answered. His patience was being tested.

“Why are you sleeping on the floor?” she asked bluntly, causing him to close his eyes again in frustration. He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down on the chair next to the bed, resting his head in the palm of one of his hands. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, Reagan,” he said, his voice low.

“Can’t do what?” she asked, leaning over and flipping on the bedside lamp on her side. She looked around the room groggily, her hair mussed on one side. She yawned as she looked back at him again. “Can’t do what, Michael?”

“This,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. Reagan had an almost imperceptible moment of shock, her eyes widening just a bit before she settled back down, resigned to what it was. She nodded her head and rolled out of the bed.

“Got it,” she said, standing up as she began slipping her shoes on. Michael stood up, running his hands through his hair again. This was not how he wanted this to go!

“Reagan…look…” he began, only to be cut off by her. She held up her hand and shook her head at him.

“Just stop, okay? No explanation needed,” she said dismissively, walking over to the table and collecting her things. She laughed to herself when she realized she hadn’t even unpacked anything.

“Reagan, seriously, let’s just talk for a minute, okay?” Michael said, coming to stand next to her at the table. He reached out and placed his hand on her upper arm but she pulled away, stepping back as she looked at him. He couldn’t read her expression. She rolled her eyes at him and laughed again as she picked up her car keys.

“No. I think we don’t need to,” she said, holding a hand up to keep him from interrupting. “It is what it is, right? I understand, Michael. Really I do, and I am sorry you flew all this way for nothing.”

Michael winced as her voice caught on that last word. She was definitely taking this personal and he really felt like a shitbag now.

“Reagan. It’s not about sex, okay, so don’t think that, please,” he said, following her to the door as she began walking. She turned on him, the first hint of anger in her heated brown eyes.

“Then what is it about, Michael?” she seethed, her chest heaving. “I know why you came here. Let’s not kid ourselves, right? And when it didn’t pan out, you want to leave. It’s fine,” she said, glaring at him. “It’s really fucking fine and I think I’ll be going now.” She turned again and continued walking to the door.

Michael placed his hand on the door preventing her from leaving, reminiscent of a time before. Reagan angrily grabbed his hand and pushed it off the door before grabbing the doorknob only to have Michael grab her and push her against the door. His eyes searched her face almost frantically and she glared back at him.

“Get off me,” she muttered, her eyes angrily blinking in an effort to stop the tears that wanted to fall. Just for once could she find a guy that didn’t want just fucking sex from her, or wanted anything from her? She twisted under him, removing herself from his grasp. “Let me out, Michael.”

“No,” he said, his hand on the door once again, holding it closed as she tried to pull it open. She turned and glared at him again, a tear rolling down her cheek in frustration. Fuck!

“Let. Me. Out,” she hissed, staring at him in anger. They stared at each other for a moment, both conflicted with their own personal demons. Michael dropped his hand in resignation.

“I’m sorry, Reagan,” he said, genuine regret in his voice as he stared at her. She stared back at him, her eyes wet with tears that were pulling at his heart. Regaining her senses, she inhaled deeply and stood up straight and wiped her face angrily once again before she spoke.

“Don’t ever contact me, Michael. It is obvious I need to be alone, and you need to do whatever the fuck it is you need to do,” she said quietly, her tears the only thing contradicting the anger in her voice. She opened the door and stepped out, leaving him in the room. She walked a few steps and then turned around, changing her mind and marching back angrily to stand before him. She glared up at him, her jaw set in anger. He stared down at her, eyeing her warily.

“You are just like the rest of them,” she bit out, poking her finger in his chest hard enough to hurt. “Always about fucking sex. I cannot believe I wasted my….my…fuck you, Michael. Just fuck you, you fucking asshole.”

“Reagan – I,” he began, only to be cut off again.

“No! You don’t talk! You listen, asshole!” she said loudly, poking him in the chest again in anger. He backed up and she followed him back into the room.

“Did you not hear anything I said to you earlier?! I was fucking raped, Michael! Raped!” she screeched, her voice rising. “So fucking forgive me if I don’t want to just jump into bed with you!” she yelled, her voice rising even more. “I mean – my god! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She stood there, clenching and unclenching her fists, tears running down her cheeks and her lips twitching with her fury. Michael sighed and pulled her against him, his hands gripping her tightly as she fought against him.

“No!” she yelled, pushing at his chest but he continued to hold her against him still.

“You let me go, asshole. God, I can’t even fucking stand you!” she whispered furiously, fighting for a few more futile moments before her arms went limp at her side. She dropped her head, her forehead pressed against his chest as he held her tight.

“You are such an asshole and I can’t stand you, Michael,” she whispered again, her voice quiet with defeat.

“I know, love,” he said soothingly, rubbing her back to try to calm her. He really was an asshole. To the fullest extent of the word. “I’m sorry, Reagan.”

She hiccupped against him, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion from all the strain. She reached up and wiped her face, sniffling as she did so and pulled back away from him. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Michael. I want to go home,” she said, laughing as she remembered she didn’t really have a home. Who the fuck knew what was going on at the place she shared with her mother? She definitely couldn’t stay there any longer, not with Paul and Kevin knowing everything.

"Where will you go?" Michael asked, seemingly reading her mind. Reagan giggled again, but no humor was there. She shrugged her shoulders as she sniffled again.

"I don't know. My mom may be gone, so I'll go back there, or I'll get a room, or something," Reagan said.

"But this," she gestured between the two of them," this is not good for either of us. I am not in a good place, Michael, and I can't be what you want me to right now. I am so pissed, and I know that right now is no good for me, or you."

Michael looked at her helplessly.  This was such a shitty situation they found themselves in. He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.

"Do you want to just stay here for the night? We can start over tomorrow?" he asked, knowing it wasn't a good idea. Reagan smiled at him ruefully, knowing the same thing in her head.

"You know that's not a good idea, Michael. If somehow we don't kill each other, we'll end up sleeping together and that's not a good thing right now. I don't want to confuse the situation any more. I'm sorry," Reagan said quietly, wiping at her eyes once again. She looked up at him and smiled softly.

"I know it's not all about sex for you, Michael. I am sorry I jumped to that conclusion. My view of....men....is very fucked up right now, and I shouldn't take that out on you."

Michael smiled back at her, and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it softly.

"That's not entirely true, love. Believe me when I say I want nothing more than to take you to bed and never let you leave - sorry I am a man and you are fucking hot - but I know that's not what you want or need right now. I just don't know what to do to help, and I don't want to make things worse," he whispered against her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Just know this, love - when you are ready...when you are ready for a relationship, I better be the first one you call," he finished, cocking an eyebrow at her in a mock warning. Reagan giggled for real this time, moving into his arms for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his chest, his sparse chest hairs tickling her lips and nose.  He hugged her tight and rested his chin atop her head.

"Thank you, Michael," she mumbled against him, her tears threatening to fall once again. As much as she knew this wasn't a good idea, she never wanted to leave from this spot. She never felt safer than when she was wrapped in his arms.

"No, babe, thank you. For being honest with me and for standing up for yourself. I think you are such a strong girl, Reagan, and you will get through this and be so much better," he murmured against her hair and she choked back a sob, his never-ending confidence in her tearing her up again. "I mean that, love, I really do."

She hugged him tightly once more and released him, looking up at him shyly.

"We'll keep in touch?" she asked him, her eyes hopeful. He nodded vehemently, cupping her face with his hands as he spoke.

"You know I'll come find you if you don't," he said hoarsely. "Besides - you owe me $1100 remember?" he teased, trying to lighten the mood. Reagan blinked back tears yet again as she smiled up at him.

"Jerk," she said softly and he grinned down at her.

"That's what you always say, but you love me anyways," his voice strained -was she imagining that- as he ran his finger down her cheek. His grin faded and he got serious. "I'm really going to miss you, Reagan. You'll call if you need anything, right?"

Reagan nodded, unable to speak. This was breaking her heart. Even though they both knew it was for the best, it was breaking her heart, and Michael was feeling it as well. She sighed, and stepped away from him, lifting her shoulders in determination.

"I should go before this gets even harder," she whispered, not trusting her voice. Michael nodded, his face strained.

"Yeah, I guess so...."

"Okay, then," Reagan said, looking up at him as she fiddled with her car keys.  Michael stared down at her, his jaw tense and flexing. Reagan smiled once more and turned to walk away but Michael grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to him, cupping her face again as he brought his lips down to hers. Reagan immediately opened to him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him to her. They kissed for a moment, urgent and hot as both tried to convey their feelings for each other. When Michael pulled back, his voice was gruff with need.

"So you don't forget me," he said quietly, running his thumb over her lower lip as it quivered. Reagan was dazed, staring at him as she tried to calm her breathing.

"I won't ever forget you, Michael," Reagan said, turning her face into his palm and nuzzling it one last time. She closed her eyes, knowing it was time. "I really have to go, Michael. This is too hard already."

He nodded and released her, stepping back and dropping his hands at his side. Reagan smiled at him once more and stepped out of the room. She walked quickly down the hall to the elevator, not looking back. She knew if she did, he would be there and she would run right back into his arms. No, this time she needed to make it on her own. If there was something that was meant to be with Michael it would happen when she was ready. When she was ready. She kept repeating that to herself, over and over as she struggled to not cry. The doors to the elevator opened and she stepped inside, leaving Michael and heading into the next chapter of her new life.

 


	30. Chapter 30

2 years later….

“Dr. Dunworth?” the receptionist called, drawing Reagan’s eyes back up to the front desk. She thought she was done for the day..

“Yeah?” she called, looking over her file at Marie. Marie was Reagan’s first hire, the first person that had been on-board as the practice took off. Marie was young – only just barely in her Masters program –and needed somewhere to work and eventually move into her practicum. Reagan was all about helping young therapists as she had been one not too long ago and knew just how hard it was. Marie was a wonderful help and worked hard keeping the office in line as well as making sure the clients were taken care of. Reagan also had 3 full-time therapists on board, and her business was thriving. Reagan didn’t lack for clients, and she had been hired on at the college as an adjunct professor. Everything was going really, really well despite all the bullshit that had happened…

“Mark left a message for you,” Marie said, standing up and walking the note over to Reagan. She smiled to herself, her mood brightening as she thought about her upcoming date with Mark. She had only been dating him on and off for a month, both having decided to take their friendship to the next level, and she was very happy to be going out with him. Mark was handsome, and accomplished in his own right. He also taught at the college but in the biochemical engineering department and was working on some high-tech research project with a local chemical company. He was a good man and she was content with him for the most part. He was good for her and she needed to move on, to find a good man. Reagan took the note from Marie and smiled at the younger woman.

“Thanks, Marie,” Reagan said, closing her file. “How’s school going? Ready to start your practicum?”

“Oh yes ma’am!” Marie said enthusiastically, smiling at Reagan. “I need to get my papers for you to sign off on my supervision as well. When would be a good time to do that?”

“Oh just look at my schedule and put me in. Whatever works for you and if I am free, just set it up and let me know,” Reagan replied with a smile. Marie smiled back and nodded, walking back over to the desk and sitting down.

“I don’t have anything the rest of the day, correct?” Marie looked at the computer carefully, clicking buttons as she did so.

“No ma’am, that’s all for today,” she said, looking up and smiling at Reagan. “You going home?”

“Yeah I think so. I have a hot date tonight,” Reagan said, smiling conspiratorially at Marie. Both women giggled. “I’m going to grab my things and head out then. See you tomorrow?”

“Yes ma’am! Have a good evening and enjoy your date!” Marie called as Reagan headed back to her office. She just needed to grab her things and she could head out the back, her truck parked behind the office today. It was nearly 5pm, and she was supposed to meet Mark at 7pm. She was shuffling paperwork around and filing it when her office phone rang. She pushed the answer button and put it on speaker.

“Yes, Marie?” she asked, still filing papers.

“I have gentleman here to see you,” Marie said, her voice sounding nervous. Reagan’s brow furrowed.

“Is he a client?” she asked, zipping up her backpack and setting it on the chair near the door.

“Uhmm…no ma’am,” Marie stammered out and Reagan frowned again. What was wrong with her receptionist? “He says it’s urgent that he see you, Dr. Dunworth.”

“Hmm. Okay, give me a few and I’ll be back up. Just have him wait in the waiting room,” Reagan replied, pulling her sunglasses off her head and dropping them on her desk. She took a deep breath as she walked out of her office and back down the hall to the waiting room. She passed by Marie’s desk and frowned at the girl’s expression.

“Marie?” Reagan asked, stopping at the desk and staring quizzically at her receptionist. “What’s the matter?”

“You just need to go to the waiting room, Dr. Dunworth. I don’t know what to say,” Marie said, her breath panicky as she held up her hands in confusion. Reagan frowned again, walking over and opening the door to the waiting room.

Her heart stopped and her throat constricted when she saw the man sitting there, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He was wearing jeans and Converse, his lean torso covered by a loose zipped-up hoodie. His reddish-brown hair was longer and curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from below his beanie. The one thing she would never forget – that delicious red stubble - was present on his cheeks and chin, his scruffiness doing her in even after all this time. He looked up, catching her eyes and grinned.

“Hello, Reagan,” he said easily, standing up and shoving his phone in his pocket.  “How are you love?”

Reagan blinked at him, confusion turning to anger and her mouth flattened as her eyes narrowed on him.

“What are you doing here, Michael?”

Michael leaned back on his heels, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stared at her. “Not the welcome I was hoping for, but the one I expected,” he murmured, regarding her carefully. Reagan crossed her arms over her chest, her chin jutted out in anger.

“Really, Michael? What did you expect? Me to throw myself at you again?” she hissed, her voice laced with anger. “I did that already, remember?”

He continued to stare at her, his emotions unreadable in his handsome face. He hadn’t changed much. Maybe a little thinner – a lot thinner actually – but otherwise he was still as handsome as the devil. She had to watch herself around him.

“God damn you for showing up here, Michael,” she seethed, fists clenching and unclenching. “Just go away and leave me alone.” Reagan turned on her heel and flung the door open, walking back to her office. Michael quickly followed, dismissing the receptionist with a flick of his hand. He followed Reagan back to her office, walking in behind her and closed the door. Reagan turned around and stared at him, her mouth opening and closing.

“You…you cannot be back here!” she whispered furiously, not trusting her voice. After all this time he decides to show up?? “Get the fuck out, Michael, and never bother me again. I mean it this time.”

“I’m sorry, Reagan,” he said quietly, looking at her. “I never meant for that to happen. I was an asshole and stupid and I am sorry. We need to talk.”

“Yeah, well I don’t care, and we have nothing to talk about,” Reagan said, zipping up her jacket and slinging her purse over her shoulder. She turned to look at Michael, her eyes cold. “If you don’t leave my office I will have you removed.” He took a step closer to her, reaching out to touch her but she stepped back.

“I’m not fucking around, Michael,” she said again, her voice deceptively calm. She would not let him see her cry, the bastard. “Leave now and never bother me again.”

Reagan jumped when her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down at it and Michael did as well. Reagan pushed the “answer” button and held the phone up to her ear.

“Mark! Hi,” she said, her voice quickly changing as she spoke to her boyfriend. Michael’s brows drew together and he glared at her. Reagan ignored him, turning to look out the window as she spoke. “Yes. I am leaving now….work went a little long….I know…..sure!” she nodded her head, fidgeting with the string that raised and lowered the blinds. “Yeah…okay…okay…I miss you, too….Ok see you in a bit…okay…bye.” She hung up the phone and turned to Michael, her facial expression immediately reverting back to hatred.

_“I miss you, too_ ,” Michael mocked her, shaking his head at her. “Is that your _precious_ Mark?” Michael sneered, walking over to stand next to Reagan. He stood before her and looked down at her. “Does he know about me? About everything that happened?” Reagan looked up at him and her mouth turned up in a sneer of it’s own.

“No. Don’t want to waste my time on trivial bullshit,” Reagan bit out, pushing past Michael and heading for the door. He walked up behind her and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.

“Trivial bullshit? Really, Reagan?” Michael asked in disbelief.

“I will call the cops, you fucking asshole. Take your hands off of me,” Reagan bit out, not bothering to look at him. “I mean it, Michael. Leave me alone.”

“You don’t want that, Reagan, and you know it,” Michael said, his tone softening. “You don’t want Mark and you don’t want me to leave. Admit it.”

Reagan sighed deeply, staring at the door for a moment before she turned on him.

“You see that’s where you’re wrong, Michael,” she said bitterly. “I do want Mark because he is a good guy. A good, decent man who won’t treat his girlfriend like shit and fuck around on her. You, on the other hand, are a piece of shit and I don’t want you. I will never want you again. What I  do want is for you to leave, and I don’t ever want to hear from you again.” She blinked back tears of frustration, the past 2 years events coming back to haunt her. How she hated this man in front of her!

“I am sorry, Reagan. I don’t know how many times I can say it, but you have to let me explain some things,” Michael said softly and for a moment Reagan almost bought his line of bullshit. Just for a moment she dared to believe him, to see the old Michael. It was fleeting, though, quickly replaced again by her hatred of him.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry or not, Michael. What happened between us happened, and now it’s over. Just like we are. I want nothing to do with you. Ever again.”

“You have to talk to me, Reagan,” Michael pleaded with her, following her as she walked out of her office and to the back door. She flung the door open and walked out, the brisk air biting at her cheeks. She pushed the button on her key fob, the interior of her truck lighting up. Michael followed her to the truck, pushing the door back shut as she opened it.

“Fuck off, Michael,” Reagan said, turning to glare at him, throwing her hands up in aggravation. “What do you want from me? You have it all, Michael. It’s all gone, everything I wanted. It’s all gone and you have it with someone else. What do you want from me?” The tears started, silently rolling down her cheeks and chilling her even more. Michael reached for her, gripping her shoulders as he pulled her to him. She struggled in his embrace, pushing at him for a moment before the memories took over and she melted into him. He silently rubbed her hair, trying to console her as best as he could.

“Can we just go somewhere and talk, Reagan? I need to explain some things,” Michael murmured against her hair, still rubbing her back. Reagan stilled, anger coursing through her once again as she tried to control her emotions. She forcefully pulled away from him.

“No. I have a date. With my boyfriend,” she answered, her voice ice cold. “What we had was over. You’ve made that abundantly clear. I really see no need in us speaking, so please leave me alone.” With that she turned back to the door and opened it, hopping inside the truck and placing the keys in the ignition. She gripped the steering wheel but did not look at him, staring straight ahead.

“Well that didn’t take you long, did it? Boyfriend, love, all that bullshit,” he angrily ground out. “How long have you and _Mark_ been dating?” Michael rolled Mark’s name off his tongue in disgust.

Reagan turned to look at him in astonishment, her eyebrows rising in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now, Michael? Like really serious?” Michael stared back at her, his mouth set in anger. “Do you remember what you did, Michael? Does that even register in your fucking realm of reality? And you have the nerve to question me going out with someone?” Reagan started laughing, a hysterical laugh that verged on tears. Michael stood there still, his jaw ticking in anger. When Reagan calmed down, she wiped at her eyes and looked back at him. “I meant it, Michael. Leave me alone. I am in a good place now, and I don’t need, nor do I want you in my life. Please leave me alone.”

“You mean that, then? This is it?” he asked her, his hands shoved in his pockets yet again. “I said I was sorry and I meant it.” His face was sad, and again Reagan felt a pang of guilt and sadness for how things had gone down between them.

“Good for you, Michael. I am glad you are sorry. You should be, but that doesn’t change anything,” Reagan bit out, glaring at him again. She shook her head, trying to control her emotions before they got the better of her. “I have to go. I mean it. Leave me alone.”

With that she slammed the truck door, effectively silencing him. She put the truck in reverse, and backed out. As she drove away, she glanced at him briefly in the rearview mirror, still standing there with his hands in his pocket as he watched her leave. She lifted her chin and steeled her heart against the feelings that wanted to rush back, knowing she could never let him in again. Not after what had happened.


	31. Chapter 31

The doorbell rang and Reagan rushed out of her room to get it. She was still flustered from seeing Michael earlier, but she had managed to pull herself together enough before Mark got here. She opened the door and forced a smile at the man before her.

“Hey Mark,” she said softly her, voice a bit strained. She opened the door wide as he came in and enveloped her in a hug. She pushed the door shut with her free hand and hugged him back, trying to not let anything show.

“Hey beautiful,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ve missed you.” He kissed her temple and leaned back, looking down at her.

“I missed you, too,” she said, smiling back at him. “Let me grab my purse and we can go then?” Reagan stepped out of his arms and walked over to the couch, picking up her purse and sliding it over her shoulder. Mark looked at her carefully for a moment before smiling gently at her.

“You alright, babe?” he asked, reaching for her hand. She grabbed his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. “You seem a bit distracted…” Reagan smiled back and shook her head.

“No. Just had a long day at work, is all.”

“You sure?” Reagan smiled at him and tugged him towards the door, opening and ushering them both out.

“I’m positive. Now let’s go! I am starving!” Mark nodded at her and walked with her to his truck, opening the door for her and helping her get in. He closed the door and went to his side and hopped in. Reagan was already fiddling with his radio as was her way, and he chuckled at her.

“Why do you change the channels, Mark?” she questioned him, slanting her eyes at him. He put the truck and reverse and backed out, heading out on the road and towards the grill and bar that they were heading to that evening.

“Because I know how much you enjoy changing them back,” he teased, cutting his eyes at her briefly. She snorted and he laughed. Maybe he was imagining things…

* * *

 

They were seated at the table in the dimly lit bar in downtown Dallas. It was the grand re-opening and Mark knew the owner so they had been able to get in in front of everyone else. It was one of the more upscale clubs in Dallas, and by the looks of the crowd, it had attracted the more elite of Dallas. An up and-coming band was headlining the place and the noise was steadily rising. Reagan knew she would most likely never be back in this bar ever again – just not her kind of place. She felt totally out of her element here, all these women dressed up the way they were. She stared down at herself, grimacing at her simple top and black jeans. Mark reached over and grabbed her hand, smiling at her.

“What’s wrong babe?” he said loudly to her, his voice getting lost over the sound of the club.

“Nothing,” she replied, forcing a smile at him. Mark stood up and walked around to her side, leaning down by her ear as he spoke.

“I’m going to go find Devin, okay? Do you want to come with me, or wait here?”

“I’ll wait, if that’s okay with you?” Reagan asked him.

“Yeah that’s a good idea probably,” he agreed, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Reagan nodded and watched as he disappeared into the crowd. :

She pulled her jacket up and around her shoulders, wishing she could shrink into the wall and escape. The noise, the people, the lights dancing – it was all just too much. She looked down at her phone, trying to distract herself with scrolling through Facebook. She nearly jumped out of her seat when she felt the warm breath at her ear.

“You shouldn’t be all alone in a place like this, love,” Michael said, pulling up a chair next to her. Reagan sucked in a deep breath, angrily closing her phone down as she turned to him.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at him. He stared back at her impassively, lifting his glass up and swallowing the amber liquid down.

“Couldn’t get a flight out. Manager knew some people in town and they recommended this place,” he leaned forward and propped his arms up on the table. “Better question is what are you doing here? I know this is not your scene..”

Reagan stared at him in anger, blinking rapidly. No words would come out, no matter how hard she tried. All the things she wanted to say to him – the things she had sworn she would say to him when and if she ever saw him again –all went out the window. He still took her breath away and rendered her speechless, the fucking asshole. Everything came crashing back down on her, the feelings and emotions, the heartache and the want. She still wanted this asshole, even after everything that had happened between them. Even after what he had done to her, she couldn’t deny that she wanted him still.

“Reagan?”

Reagan looked up, blinking up at Mark as her face heated. As if he could read her guilty thoughts…

He looked between her and Michael, his eyes narrowing at how close they were sitting together. Michael was practically surrounding her, his knees spread out on either side of Reagan.

“What’s going on here, babe?” he asked with a fake smile, looking at Michael. Michael nodded and smiled back, his fake as well.

“Nothing. This man was just leaving, weren’t you?” she asked Michael pointedly. Michael smiled again and stood up, pushing the chair back underneath the table. He turned to Mark and held out his hand. Mark reluctantly took it.

“So you’re Mark, then?” Michael asked and Reagan inwardly groaned. Please just go away!! “I’m Michael.”

“Michael, huh? You a friend of Reagan’s?” Mark asked, looking down at Reagan. Michael grinned and looked down at Reagan in surprise.

“NO!” Reagan began, only to be drowned out by Michael.

“Oh yeah. She and I go way back,” Michael said, turning to stare at Reagan. She knew that look in his eyes, the intense blue visible even in this limited lighting. He was pissed. “You should tell him about us, love. I’m sure he’d love to hear the story.” Reagan gasped, her heart dropping in her stomach. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

“Well. I should be leaving,” Michael said easily, smiling at Mark again. “You two have a good evening. Good seeing you again, Ronnie.” With that Michael walked away, blending into the crowd. Reagan turned to look at Mark, who had taken a seat next to her, his expression unreadable.

_“Ronnie?_ ” he asked her, his mouth a hard line. “Do you know that guy, Reagan? Please don’t lie to me, either.” Reagan sighed and nodded.

“I do. He’s an old boyfriend.”

Mark nodded and took a deep breath of his own. “Ronnie?”

“It’s an old nickname, Mark. Nothing more,” Reagan began, trying to smooth things over.

“I’ve never heard that nickname and I’ve never heard about Michael,” he said carefully, looking down at his hands before him. “How long did you date him, Reagan?”

“Off and on for about 2 years,” Reagan whispered, biting her lip as she too stared down at her fingers, nervously twisting them in her lap.

“Wow,” Mark replied, nodding again. “That’s a long time.”

“Yeah,” Reagan whispered again. God she did not want to talk about Michael right now. She really did not. There was still too much unresolved pain there, still too many questions that didn’t have answers.

“You seem pretty upset, Reagan. Am I missing the mark here, or what?” Mark asked, looking at her now.

“He was there for me after…after all that stuff went down with my family,” Reagan looked up at Mark now, her eyes wet with tears. “Remember I told you all that?”

“Yeah, you told me about your family, but not about Michael.”

“He’s insignificant, Mark. Can we please just drop it?” Reagan pleaded.

“Insignificant? I see tears in your eyes, Reagan,” Mark argued back. “Just be honest with me. Is there still something there? We’ve only been really dating for a short while, and I want to know before I get in too deep.”

“What do you want to know, Mark?”

“Did you love him?”

“Yes,” Reagan whispered, looking down again at her hands. An uncomfortable silence ensued for a few moments, neither one wanting to voice the unspoken question.

“Do you still?”

Reagan closed her eyes at that question. Fuck she didn’t even know what she felt towards Michael, so raw were her emotions surrounding him still.

“Reagan?” Mark pressed quietly.

“I don’t know,” Reagan answered truthfully. She looked up at Mark and shook her head. “I don’t know what I feel for him and that’s the truth. We had….issues…and I don’t know if it ever got resolved on either side.” Mark sat back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.

“So was this thing with us kind of a rebound then?”

“Mark!” Reagan gasped, looking at him and shaking her head in disagreement.

“No, Reagan, seriously. Let’s be real. We’ve been off and on for the past few months. We haven’t slept together yet, which I am cool with, but it’s unusual, you know?” he said, leaning forward once again and staring at her. “But if you not being able to take the next step with me has anything to do with him, then I think I am entitled to know, don’t you think?” Mark reached forward and grabbed her hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “We were friends before all this, Reagan. If there’s something I need to know, then please tell me,” Mark said, smiling gently at her. “I’m still your friend more than anything.”

Reagan blinked back tears and smiled at him, relieved that he was such a good man and so understanding.

“I’m sorry, Mark. I don’t know what the deal is with Michael. We hurt each other really, really badly, and I don’t know where we stand at,” Reagan admitted, flinching as her words affected him. She did not want to hurt Mark, not when he had been so good to her.

“What do you mean, hurt each other?” Mark asked determinedly.

“Do you really want to know all this, Mark?” Reagan asked him gently. She did not want to hurt him, and she knew he was more into her than she was into him.

“I do, and I think you need to talk about it, Reagan,” he replied.

“Well where to start? Umm we met in Florida at a conference, things happened and we flew back here together. I stayed with him a few days and then I left him. We eventually got back together once I had sorted my stuff out, and we were pretty much dating, but then I dumped him when my issues came back up. He went back to wherever it was that he was at the moment, and the next thing I know he’s calling me and telling me he got someone pregnant.” Reagan took a deep, trembling breath. “That’s the gist of it.”

“You dumped him?” Mark asked her.

“Yes,” she replied.

“And he left and got someone pregnant?”

“Yes,” Reagan said between clenched teeth.

“Why did you dump him?”

“I know it now, but I wasn’t through with my issues and I needed him too much and he couldn’t be there and I blamed him for things. So I would get pissed and be very passive/aggressive with him, and we would fight all the time. So I told him to fuck off,” Reagan said, her voice trembling now. “And he did, except he went off and fucked someone else. Got someone pregnant.” Reagan wiped at her eyes, blinking quickly to hold back the tears.

“Reagan – wow – I am sorry,” Mark said, scooting close to her and putting his arms around her shoulders. “I really am.” Reagan laughed, wiping at her eyes with her jacket sleeve.

“Shouldn’t you be pissed or something?” she asked him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Don’t get me wrong – I am pissed, and jealous - if I were to be perfectly honest, but I can see how much he hurt you and I am sorry for that, Reagan.”

“Yeah, well we hurt each other. I was a real bitch to him,” Reagan sniffled. “I can recognize that now.”

“How long ago did all this happen?” Mark asked, smoothing her hair back off her forehead.

“About 7 months ago, or so,” Reagan replied, looking at her nails. “I think that’s why he’s back. The….baby…should be…” Reagan broke off, her voice trembling too much to continue.

“You think he wanted to come tell you about the baby?” Mark finished for her, holding her tight. Reagan abruptly stood up, waving her hands around as she grabbed for her purse. She had to get out of this fucking place before she passed out. She couldn’t breathe, her damn emotions nearly choking her.

“No! No, no, no! I am not talking about this any longer!” she said hurriedly. She pushed her chair in under the table and grabbed her cell. Mark stood up with her but Reagan put her hands up to halt him. “I’m going outside to get some air. Please let me go alone. I just need some air.”

“Okay, okay,” Mark agreed, sitting back down. “Should I wait for you here?” Reagan stopped and looked at him, smiling regretfully. She turned back to him and kissed his cheek tenderly.

“No. I’ll get a cab back. I just need to be alone, and I know you want to be with Devin. I’ll text you when I am home, okay?” She covered his mouth with her hand when he began to protest, shaking her head at him. “I’ll be fine, Mark. I’m a big girl. I’ll text you.”

He nodded at her and stood up, shoving his cell in his pocket as well as he went to find his friend. Reagan went the opposite direction, walking towards the front of the building – well at least what she thought was the front. She could barely move through the crowd, elbows and arms and bodies being pressed against her. It was so hot and she felt so claustrophobic in here! She had to get out but she couldn’t see over the crowd, her short stature once again giving her trouble. She tried to get up on her tip-toes, trying to see over the crush of people but it was impossible. How the fuck was she going to get out of here?

 


	32. Chapter 32

Reagan tried to jump up, trying to see which direction she should go but the crowd was just too thick. Just then she fell into someone's arms, a sweaty man who gripped her around her waist. Reagan started panicking, trying to untangle herself from him.

"Where you going, babe?" the man asked her, slurring her words as he looked down at her. Reagan pushed at him again, freaking out as his hands traveled down her back.

"Get off me!" she yelled at him, pushing back off him and stumbling backwards. He disappeared into the crowd and Reagan breathed in relief. She turned but tripped over someone's shoe, her damn heels doing her in now and she felt herself falling to the ground.  She was caught yet again by another set of arms, but this was more familiar somehow...

“Come with me, love,” that unmistakable voice in her ear murmured, and she felt Michael grip her right above her elbow. She thought about fighting back, but knew he could lead her out of the building and so she went along with him. For the time being.

When they broke free of the crowd, Reagan recognized the front of the building once again. She wrestled out of Michael’s grasp and rushed towards the door, pushing against the people blocking the entrance. Once again she felt Michael grip her by her arm, but this time he slid his hand down and grasped hers, pulling her along behind him. He pushed through the small group at the entrance, pulling her with him as he opened the door. They made it outside, the chilly Dallas air blasting them. Reagan tried to jerk her hand from his but Michael held fast.

“Let me go, Michael,” Reagan ordered, pulling against him.

“No,” he said, gripping her arm with his other hand as he steered her towards a black sedan. He dug the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car. Reagan glared at him as he pulled open the passenger door and ushered her inside. She knew how persistent he was, but if she were to be honest she could admit that she wanted to see him. She wanted to see him – even if it broke her heart all over again. She wanted to see him. She inhaled deeply when he crawled in the driver’s side, his scent and cologne washing over her. Just like that she was catapulted right back into wanting him, her stomach flip-flopping as she tried to steady her breathing.

“We’re going to sit here until you hear me out,” Michael stated, staring forward over the dashboard and out the window. ‘When we are done, then I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Reagan looked out her window, trying to distance herself from him as much as possible. It felt like he was surrounding her, his presence filling up the whole car. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was sure he could hear it, it was that damn loud.

“The baby is not mine. She lied. Yes, I had sex with someone else - with her - but it’s not my kid,” Michael stated flatly. “It was born last month, and it was apparent from the instant it was born that it was not my child. She fessed up after I threatened a paternity test.”

Reagan started crying, biting her lip as she tried to control herself. She ground her nails into the palms of her hands, trying desperately to focus on the people walking around outside. They were all oblivious to the turmoil going on this car, the turmoil in her heart.

“You dumped me, remember? You told me to “fuck off” and I left. We were broken up, and yes, I turned to someone else. I am sorry for that and I will always be sorry for that, but you dumped me, love,” Michael said quietly, his voice strained. “When I thought that the baby was mine I did what I thought was the right thing to do and I stood by her. I was going to support the baby, Ronnie, but never for a minute did I want a relationship with that woman.”

Reagan sniffled, unable to keep it in any longer. She turned her head even further to the side, wiping at her eyes with her fingers.

“Can you say something?” Michael asked, turning in his seat and looking at her. “Please?”

“I want to go home, Michael,” Reagan whispered, unable to speak. She couldn’t process this stuff right now. She needed to get home and sit down, get away from all of this for a moment. “Please just take me home.”

“Just take you home?” Michael asked, the hurt in his voice unmistakable. “Did you hear anything I said just now?”

“Yes. I can’t do this right now, so please take me home,” she repeated. She turned, having composed herself somewhat and looked down at her purse.

“Is it because of Mark?” Michael asked quietly, the anger back in his voice. “Are you in love with him?” Reagan laughed and turned to look at him, but her laughter was without humor.

“And if I did love him? What then, Michael? Don’t you think I deserve that?” she asked him softly, shaking her head at him. “You moved on, why shouldn’t I?”

Michael slammed his hand against the steering wheel and Reagan flinched, his anger scaring her.

“Fuck but you are so damn hard-headed! You kicked me out! Do you remember that?” he bit out, his brows drawn together in anger. ‘You kicked me out, Ronnie! I would have never left and you know that. I never fucking moved on either, so stop saying that shit!”

“Well you did leave, Michael! And you fucked around,” Reagan argued back just as loudly. She stared at him, and he stared back, his blue eyes furious. He sighed deeply and ran his hands through his hair angrily.

“Do you love him? Tell me, Ronnie. If you do, I’ll leave and never bother you again,” Michael said, his tone that of a defeated man. “You deserve to be happy, even if I am not the one to give it to you.” Reagan started crying, unable to control it anymore. She felt the tears running down her cheeks and she looked away again, staring back out the window as she wiped at her cheeks. She continued crying quietly, the only sounds in the car that of her sniffling and Michael breathing heavily through his own emotions.

“Give me your address, love,” Michael said quietly, turning the key in the ignition and starting it up. “I’ll take you home.”

Reagan sat there quietly, staring at the people laughing and smiling, all having a good time as they came and went from the club.

“Ronnie? Give me your address so we can leave,” Michael repeated. He buckled his seatbelt and waited, sighing loudly as he too stared out of the window for a moment. He turned back and began messing with the GPS, turning it on as he waited for her address.

“I don’t love him, Michael,” Reagan whispered, turning to look at the radio. She watched as Michael’s fingers stilled on the GPS at her words. He leaned back in the seat and shut the car back off, unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to her.

“So what does that mean for us?” he asked her softly. He reached across her lap and hesitantly grabbed her hand, wrapping his long fingers around hers. This time Reagan didn’t pull back.

“I don’t know what it means, Michael. I really don’t,” she admitted.

“Do you still love me, or even care about me?”

“Yes. I still love you Michael,” Reagan said, turning to look at him now. “I love you but I don’t like you right now.” She shrugged hopelessly. “It’s the truth, Michael. I love you, and I want you, but right now I really just want to knock the shit out of you.”

Michael chuckled, braving her anger. He pulled her hand up and kissed it softly, his lips moving against the back of her hand and along her wrist area.

“You hurt me, Michael,” Reagan whispered, tearing up again. Michael sighed deeply and scooted over to her as much as the car would allow, leaning his head against her head. He cupped her cheek with his other hand and his lips moved against her temple as he spoke.

“I know, love, and I am sorry,” he murmured against her. “I'm so sorry, Ronnie. What can I do to make this better?” 

Reagan hiccupped, wiping at her eyes again.  “I don’t know. Right now I really want to go home. I am so tired and I just want to go to bed. Please take me home.” Michael kissed her on her temple and held her a moment longer before releasing her and pulling back.

“Okay, love. Whatever you want,” he said, buckling his seat belt again. He started the car back up as Reagan also buckled. “What’s your address?”

Reagan gave him her address and sagged against the seat, the day just too overwhelming. Michael reached over and grabbed her hand as he maneuvered the car out of the parking lot and out onto the road. Reagan looked down at their joined hands, and the tears came again. Hot and silent, they rolled down her cheeks. Michael didn’t say anything, just glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the road. How they were going to dig out of this mess, he had no idea.


	33. Chapter 33

“What do we do now?” Michael asked, both of them still sitting in the car in Reagan’s driveway. He stared up at her townhouse. She had moved from the place they had shared together and this tugged at his heart, one more thing he had fucked up.

“I don’t know,” Reagan replied, fiddling with her keys. An uncomfortable silence ensued, both torn with what to do. Michael wanted to come up but he didn’t want to push. Reagan wanted him to come up, but she was furious with him still.

“It’s nice,” Michael said quietly. “Your place. It’s nice, Ronnie.”

“Do you want to come up?” Reagan asked quickly, the question catching them both off guard. She immediately began back pedaling. “I mean, if you want. Or if you don’t have anywhere to go….or whatever…”

“Yes,” Michael answered just as quickly, letting out the breath he had been holding as he hoped she would offer just that. “I’d very much like to come up, love.”

“To talk,” Reagan threw that out, looking at him warily. “To talk, Michael.”

He nodded in agreement. “To talk.”

“Ok let’s go then,” Reagan said, opening her door and getting out. She closed the door and walked quickly to her front door, the air cold as it swirled around her. She opened the door and stepped inside, waiting as Michael stepped in beside her. Once inside, she shut and locked the door, and removed her coat and hung it on the hook. Michael did the same, unzipping his jacket and hanging it next to hers. Just like old times, Reagan thought sadly. She mentally shook herself and walked down the hall into the living area, dropping her purse and keys on the coffee table and dropped down on the couch. She was exhausted. Michael followed and sat on the opposite end of the couch. The silence was deafening. They both started talking, trying to fill the empty space…

“Michael I-”

“Reagan look-” They both looked at each other and Michael smiled ruefully.

“You go first, Ronnie,” he said softly, turning his back against the arm rest so that he could stare at her. She nervously wrapped the blanket around her and took a deep breath.

“I don’t know where to start or what to say, Michael,” she whispered, her voice strained again. She had so much to say, had practically rehearsed it for when and if she saw him, and now everything had flown out the fucking window. She didn’t know what to say or where to begin..

“Then let me, love,” Michael said, leaning over and patting her on her leg briefly. “I’m sorry, Reagan. For everything. I never should have left, I never should have done what I did. I thought I lost you, babe. When you told me to leave, I felt my world fall out from underneath me. I didn’t know what to do, where to go. So I got drunk - a lot and quite often, and I did lots of stupid shit.” Michael stared down at his hands folded in his lap, his mouth twisted in disgust. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done, Reagan. Not in the slightest. If I could take it all back I would.” Reagan wiped at her eyes again, those fucking tears threatening all over. She should be cried out by now, but no – there were still plenty left.

“Do you think we can ever get past this, Reagan?” Michael asked, his tone somber.

“I don’t know, Michael,” Reagan whispered, and Michael nodded in acceptance.

“I love you, Ronnie. I never stopped, and I never will,” Michael stated firmly and Reagan used the back of her hand to wipe at a tear as it rolled down her cheek. Michael carefully moved closer to her, using his fingertip to wipe another tear before it rolled down. “I hate this. I hate seeing you this way.”

Reagan sucked in a shaky breath, her breath hitching as it did so. She didn’t struggle when Michael pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her as he lifted her onto his lap and held her close. She gave up, melting into him as she always had before. He was so warm and so comfortable – he smelled and felt like home to her. She rested her head against his warm chest, breathing in his scent and committing it to memory should she never have it again.

“I love you, Reagan,” Michael whispered again, his lips against the top of her head. That was the last thing Reagan remembered before she succumbed to sleep, her body and mind finally giving out after so much turmoil.

* * *

When she woke the next morning, she was wrapped around Michael’s bare chest, the heat emanating off him almost too much. They were in her bed, wrapped up in blankets and it was hot. She removed herself from his arms, taking care not to wake him as she crawled out of bed and turned on the ceiling fan to circulate the air. Not even hesitating, she pulled her socks off and slipped into some pajama pants before crawling back in bed with him. He was still sleeping, thank goodness, his breath even and measured as his chest rose and fell. Reagan grinned, knowing he had taken his shirt off due to him always being hot. The man was a furnace! The fan had cooled the air somewhat and she laid her head back down on his chest, wrapping her arms around him again. She lay there listening to his steady heartbeat, her mind running as she was lulled off to sleep by the sound.

* * *

 

“When I get back is when I get back,” Michael said firmly but quietly, and Reagan frowned as she began to wake up. “Well I’ll deal with it later….I know….yes…okay….sounds good…okay bye,” he finished, shutting off his phone and dropping it on the floor. He wrapped his arms back around her and sighed in aggravation.

“Who was that?” Reagan asked.

“My manager,” Michael replied. “Morning, love.”

“Morning.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Michael began, removing his arm from her shoulder. Reagan reached for it and pulled it back to her as she snuggled in tighter, her nose against his neck.

“Please don’t,” she whispered against his throat. How was it possible for him to always smell so damn good??

“Whatever you want, that’s what I’ll do,” Michael said, hugging her tight. “I love you, Ronnie.”

“I love you, Michael,” Reagan whispered against his neck. She kissed him lightly, unable to control herself. Michael’s hand stopped moving along her arm, his heartbeat immediately speeding up.

“Reagan?” Reagan leaned up and cupped his cheek, turning his face to hers and she kissed him. Michael gripped her hand on his cheek, kissing her back for a moment before he stopped. He looked at her, his eyes searching her face for answers.

“It’s what I want, Michael,” she said, rubbing the stubble on his jaw with her thumb. “I need you, Michael…”

Michael leaned forward and kissed her hard, his lips moving over hers in desperation. He pushed her back into the bed and crawled over her, pushing her legs apart as he settled there. They continued kissing, both of them lost in the sensation of finally being back together after so long. Michael moved to Reagan’s neck, kissing down and up over her jaw, and she began to feel sick at her stomach, her mind running away with her. Michael touching her was making her sick and she had to get him off of her. She began pushing at his shoulders, squirming underneath him.

“Get off, Michael!” she said firmly. Michael leaned up and stared down at her in confusion.

“What?” he asked her, his breathing ragged and lips moist from their kiss.

“I want you to let me up. I can’t do this,” Reagan said angrily. Michael quickly sat up on his heels and scooted away from her. Reagan sat up and adjusted her clothing as she crawled off the bed. “I think you should go.” Michael slid off the bed as well and grabbed his shirt, sliding it easily over his head.

“You want me to go?” he asked her, a hard edge to his voice. Reagan turned to look at him – glare at him really – and nodded her head.

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked her simply as he attempted to smooth his hair down. Reagan continued glaring at him.

“Really? Why? God you are unbelievable!” she hissed as she walked from the bedroom and out into the living room. Michael followed, their footsteps loud in the too-quiet house. Reagan walked over to the coffee table and grabbed her cell phone and looked at her messages. 3 missed calls and 4 text messages from Mark. Michael stood by the loveseat, his eyes on her the entire time.

“I thought we were going to talk?” he asked her, that tone still in his voice. Reagan didn’t bother looking at him as she replied, disdain heavy.

“What’s there to talk about, Michael? We broke up, took a break - what the fuck ever - and you go off and grab the first thing walking and fuck her. Then call me and tell me she’s pregnant -with your kid no less – and now it’s not yours,” Reagan said. She looked up at him now, her eyes moist yet again. She was so pissed she could throw her damn phone at his fucking face! “What did you think? That because you didn’t have a kid with this bitch that you could just come right back in? That all would be forgiven? It doesn’t work that way.”

“You’re telling me you haven’t slept with this Mark guy?” Michael bit out harshly and Reagan laughed at him. It only served to infuriate him more.

“The day you left me, Michael,” she said sweetly, smiling at him. “The day you left is the first day Mark and I made love.”

Michael gasped, and the shock on his beautiful face at her admission spurred Reagan on. He was going to feel exactly what she felt, the pain of betrayal, and that sick feeling that came with thinking of the person you loved having been intimate with someone else. Michael blinked at her a few times before running his hand over his face and looking away. She knew he was furious, that muscle in his forehead moving as he gritted his teeth. She backed away from him, for the first time unsure of her judgment. Maybe she had pushed him too far, this lie having been too much? The moment of doubt was fleeting, though, and she raised her chin in defiance as she glared at him. No, this fucker was going to feel it. He was going to feel everything that she felt all these last long months. The images that went through her head as she thought of him sleeping with someone else, touching someone else the way he touched her. Her stomach turned again, the bile rising as she tried to push those images back out of her head.

“Made love?” he whispered brokenly. He turned to look at her, his face hard and contorted with anger. Reagan sucked in a shaky breath, knowing she needed to be strong. “Made love or fucked? Because I only fucked someone, sweetheart. The only person I’ve ever truly made love to was you.”

Reagan blinked back tears again as his words hit her, the feeling that of being punched in the stomach. She desperately wanted to tell him no, that she was lying, that she had never slept with Mark – or anyone else for that matter. Besides Kevin, the only man to ever touch her in that way was Michael. But her pride wouldn’t let her. Her pride kept her from jumping in his arms and forgiving him, from telling him she was lying, and that she was sorry, and that she forgave him. She’d been treated like shit by men for far too long, and she would be damned if she would let Michael get by with just a slap on the wrist.

“Yeah, well, whatever,” she waved him off dismissively as she sat down on the couch and pretended to scroll through her phone. She knew if she had to engage in much more conversation with him that she would lose her nerve. She wanted nothing more than to be back in that bed with him, to feel his arms around her, but she knew the elephant would show up in the room once again. They just couldn’t ignore this thing between them.

 _“Yeah well whatever,”_ he mocked her snidely as he came to stand before her. “You always were a shitty liar, just so you know.” Reagan laughed in contempt as she glanced up at him for a moment, his gaze so hard that she had to look away.

“And what would I be lying about, Michael? You think you’re the only one who can go out and find someone so quickly? You’re not the only guy that wants a piece of ass, just so you know.”

Michael leaned down and pulled her phone out of her hand, ignoring her protests as he walked away to the kitchen. He scrolled through her text messages, looking for what he did not know. Reagan quickly followed, reaching around him to try to get her phone back.

“Give me my phone back, you bastard!” Reagan screeched as Michael continued to scroll through her phone.

“Oh here he is. Your _precious_ Mark,” Michael sneered as he read through her messages to Mark.

**Mark: Excited to finally go out with you :-)**

**Reagan: Me too! Sorry about everything. Taking me a while to figure things out…**

**Mark: It’s cool. I understand. We’ll take things slow..**

**Reagan: Thank you :-)**

Michael looked up at Reagan and cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah it sounds like you two were really involved,” Michael said sarcastically, shaking his head as he handed her the cell phone. ‘Is there another guy? Because I don’t believe you and Mark are sleeping together – or that you ever did.” Reagan snatched the phone out of his hand and glared at him, her chest heaving with her anger.

“I don’t give a damn what you think you know, Michael! Get the fuck out of here!” she yelled at him. She was so fucking pissed off and so damn embarrassed! He had seen right through her lies – she knew it! It only served to infuriate her more, her blood positively boiling. "I mean it, Michael! Get out!" she yelled again as she walked up to him and pushed at him, pushing at his shoulders and chest in anger.

"No!" he yelled back, barely budging as she pushed him.  Reagan pounded on his chest for a moment, slapping at his arms in frustration before she gave up. She hung her head down low as she sank into a chair at the table.

"I can't do this, Michael. I can't do this," she whispered, choking on her tears. Her fingers were trembling as she set her phone down on the table and leaned over, her head in her hands. She felt like her head was going to explode, the pain at her temples throbbing in tune with her pounding heart.

"I can't either," Michael said quietly, his tone resigned to their fate.

"So what do we do?" Reagan asked, looking up at him tearfully. She had no answers for this...

"I don't know," he replied as he looked down at his shoe. "I still love you, Ronnie."  He looked up at her, his face stricken with pain. His lips were flattened as he tried to control his emotions. "I don't want this to be the end."

Reagan wiped at her eyes as the tears started anew at his words. There it was. The finality of it all, laid before her. All she had to do was go to him and try to start over, but she knew she couldn't. She could barely stand to be touched by him, let alone make love to him. It just wouldn't work.

"I don't either," she sobbed, her voice breaking at those words. It was so final. Before she thought they were taking a break - now she really felt like they were breaking up.  Michael walked over to her and knelt down before her, his hands on her knees as he looked up at her.

"Then tell me what to do, Ronnie! If you don't want it to be over, and I don't want it to be over, then why the fuck are we ending it?" he implored her, his eyes darting over her face frantically. "Whatever I need to do, I'll do it. Just tell me!"

Reagan shook her head at him sadly. She didn't think there was any repairing this, no matter what they both did. She knew herself and she believed she could never get over this, no matter what they did to fix it.

"I don't think I can get over this, Michael," she whispered sadly, looking down at his hands on her knees. Michael leaned back on his heels and sighed deeply.

"So just give up then?"

Reagan shrugged her shoulders helplessly. Michael stood up and walked over to the sink, placing his hands on the countertop and looking down at the empty cup there.  He closed his eyes to calm his raging emotions and gritted his teeth. He slammed his hand down on the counter top, causing Reagan to jump.  She continued looking down at her hands nervously, twisting her fingers together as she remained silent.

"Fuck!" he yelled. "I said I was fucking sorry, and I meant it! Why can't you give me a chance?" He turned back around, looking at her again. "Why can't you see this from my side,  Reagan? We were broken up! You kicked me out and yes - I did what I did - but that's over! It's not my kid! It was only one time and it's over! For fuck's sake!"

Reagan felt her stomach turning again at the mention of him sleeping with someone and the baby. She held the back of her hand up to her mouth to quell her nausea.

"Please leave, Michael," she said quietly, closing her eyes as she tried to calm her stomach. "Please."

"You really want me to go?" he asked her, his voice dangerously calm. She knew he was still pissed, but she was too scared and nauseated to look at him. She just couldn't do this right now.

"Yes."

She jumped when she heard Michael slam his fist into the wall by the sink, flinching again as he cursed under his breath at the pain he had just caused himself. Reagan looked up at him in concern, gasping when she saw the blood running down his hand and the indention in the wall. She stood up and grabbed a nearby dishrag and reached for him, but he pulled back from her. He clutched his hand to his chest, the blood smearing all over his shirt from his bloody knuckles.

"Let me help you," she said, reaching for him once again, but he scooted even further away as he eyed her in anger.

"Don't bother," he muttered bitterly. "I'm leaving."

"Michael," she began, only to be cut off by him.

"Don't. You've made your point, Reagan," he bit out as he walked to the foyer and grabbed his coat and shoved his cell in his pocket. He snatched his keys up off the table and headed to the door. Reagan followed him, her heart pounding in her chest with anxiety. He was really leaving. Only when he had his hand on the doorknob did he turn back around and look at her.

"I hope you never make a fucking mistake in your perfect life, Reagan. But if you do, I hope whoever you are with," he gritted his teeth, "Mark, or who the fuck ever, I hope they are more forgiving than you are.  People aren't perfect and I never claimed to be. You aren't perfect either, and good luck finding someone who is."

With that he opened the door and stepped out. He slammed the door behind him, hard enough to shake the frame and Reagan sank to the floor, her sobs wracking her body. She'd gone and done it now, gotten exactly what had she asked for. As she sat there on the floor crying, she wondered if that empty feeling would ever go away, the void Michael left seemingly too big to fill. At that moment she had no idea if she'd made the right decision or not, her heart breaking as she heard Michael peel out of the parking lot. He was really gone this time.

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Nearly 3 months later (end of December)...**

“How are you mom?” Reagan spoke out loud on her way to work. The phone was on speaker but Reagan still didn’t like driving and talking – especially not when it was icy like it was now. The roads were already slick and now they were freezing over. She’d already seen two wrecks earlier.

“I’m good, baby. How are you?” her mother answered.

“Good. On my way to work.”

“Oh, you’re driving?” her mother asked, concern evident in her voice.

“Yeah, but it’s okay,” Reagan replied as she turned into her parking lot. “I’m at work already. How are you?” she asked as she pulled into her parking spot and put the car in “park.”

“I’m good sweetheart. Really good. Started my job today,” the pride in her mother’s voice was evident and Reagan smiled again at how far her mother had come.

“That’s amazing, mom! I knew you could do it,” Reagan smiled as she shoved her things in her backpack and zipped up her purse.

“Yes. I really think I am going to like it there. Everyone’s so nice, and I am learning quickly.”

“Really, that’s great mom. I am so happy for you.” Reagan sat in the seat a moment longer, the air quickly turning cold as she shut her truck off. “I’m at work now, mom. I need to get inside.”

“Oh yes baby! I just wanted to call and see what you were doing for New Year’s Eve. Have you got any plans?” Reagan cringed as she remembered the plans that she no longer had. She originally had plans with Mark, but the whole Michael fiasco had derailed that fairly quickly.

“Nope. No plans,” Reagan answered, giving nothing away.

“Nothing with your boyfriend?” her mother asked innocently. Reagan didn’t get mad as she knew her mother had no clue as to what was going on Reagan’s love life. Or lack thereof. She knew she had a bad break-up with Michael, and that she was now dating Mark, but outside of that Reagan was pretty quiet on her personal life.

“We’re not really dating anymore, so no. No plans,” Reagan said as she unbuckled.  “Hey, mom, let me get into work and I’ll call this evening and we can discuss it, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart. Sounds good. Have a good day at work and call me later, okay?”

“Okay, mom. I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

Reagan hung up the phone and shoved it in her purse. She wrapped her scarf around her neck tightly and stepped out into the cold, rushing as quickly as possible to get inside. Last day of work and then she was off for a few days, thank goodness. As Reagan walked into her office, the lights were off and she was thankful she had a few quiet moments to herself. It was a much needed respite from all of the chaos that had been her life for the past few months. All the craziness that had led up to her finally breaking it off with Mark...

* * *

 

 

**2 Weeks ago…**

“Goddamnit!” Reagan screeched, sticking her finger in her mouth and sucking on it to ease the pain. Mark came around the corner and into her bedroom, concern on his face.

“What happened, babe?” he asked her, coming to stand before her and pulling on her hand. Reagan angrily snatched it away from him and stuck it back in her mouth. Mark looked at her and chuckled. ‘That bad, huh?”

Reagan glared at him as she answered, “Yes. That bad.”

“What happened?” Mark asked as he sat down on her bed. He glanced at the television and his eyebrows rose slightly, the only indication of his anger. Reagan kept shoving things in her suitcase, avoiding the zipper this time at all costs. That hurt like a bitch and her finger was missing a bit of skin courtesy of said zipper.

“It’s because he was on there, wasn’t it?” Mark asked quietly, the anger just barely hidden in his voice. “It pissed you off and you hurt yourself because of him. Am I right?”

Reagan dropped her head in defeat and sat down on the bed. She was tired of fighting with Mark. Tired of trying to rationalize, and explain, and make excuses. She was just tired of it all and quite frankly she did not want to deal with it anymore.

“That was it, right?” Mark pressed as he sat up and un-muted the television. The interview was still going on, an interview for Michael’s new movie. The romantic one. The one where he was dating his co-star in real life. The fucking asshole. Reagan turned to look at it again, unable to look away. She was pretty – no arguing that. Dark, and tall, exotic-looking even. Beautiful hair, beautiful body, perfect damn legs, and fucking beautiful teeth! Everything Reagan was not. She watched as Michael held her hand through the interview, the way he grinned at her. He used to grin at her that way, she thought sadly. Reagan blinked rapidly as she felt the tears prick her eyes once again as the beautiful woman leaned over and kissed Michael on his cheek and then playfully rubbed her lipstick off. He smiled at her again and Reagan felt her stomach turn. He looked like he loved her…

Mark hit the power button and turned the television off. He sighed deeply and looked down at the floor. “I think that’s it for me, Reagan. I can’t do this anymore with you. It’s obvious that you aren’t over him and that means there’s no room for me,” Mark finished quietly.

“You’re right,” Reagan replied, not even bothering to deny it anymore. She was tired of pretending and tired of not being fair to Mark. He was a good man and he deserved someone much better than her. She was the idiot who was still hung up on an actor that she had dumped a few months back. Hardly girlfriend material. “I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Mark stood up and shoved his hands in his pocket. Reagan knew he was pissed off, although he rarely showed any kind of anger. Unlike her and Michael, Mark was the very definition of quiet calm. He didn’t even get mad in traffic when Reagan could be cussing someone and shooting the bird! Not Mark.  He just kept on driving.  She stood up as well, uncomfortable with the way things were going.

“What time is your flight?” he asked her quietly, his expression unreadable.

“1020,” Reagan replied, glad for the change of subject.

“Want a lift?” he asked her, ever the consummate gentleman. Reagan shook her head at him and smiled softly. She knew he didn’t really want to give her a ride.

“No. I called a cab. Which should be here at any time actually.”

“So…” Mark began. Reagan stood there in uncertainty, her mind running a million miles an hour. She felt like such a bitch for having treated him this way, but she couldn’t go on like this any longer. That damn interview was the proof. She quickly pushed those images out of her head before they took hold.

“So we can still be friends, I guess?” Mark asked her softly. “Although you’ll forgive me if I ask for some time off?” he chuckled now and Reagan laughed a little as well.

“I understand. I’m sorry Mark. Really I am,” she began, only to be dismissed by Mark.

“Don’t worry about it. I kinda figured this was going to happen, but I ignored it,” he smiled ruefully at her. He walked over to Reagan and stood in front of her. “I’m not going to kiss you. Don’t worry.” Reagan laughed out loud and smiled up at him as she playfully punched him in the gut. “You’re a good friend, Reagan.”

“You’re an even better friend, Mark. To put up with all of this,” Reagan said softly.

“Do you think you’ll get back together with him?” Mark asked her and Reagan knew it pained him to do so, and so she averted her eyes, not wanting to answer. “I’m asking as your friend, Reagan. It’s obvious you still care about him.” Reagan snorted.

“Well, regardless if I wanted to or not, he’s obviously moved on.”

“There’s always hope, babe,” Mark said with a grin and a wink. Reagan laughed in self-deprecation.

“Not where I am concerned. I blew it with him. Big-time,” she said as she walked over to the bed and sat down again. “Take it from me, Mark. If you love someone, give them another chance. It’s not always black and white. There’s room for some gray in there..” she trailed off, wiping at her eyes again as she fought back tears of frustration. Mark sat down next to her and rubbed her shoulder lightly.

“Well, at least we never slept together,” he blurted out and Reagan laughed through her tears. She punched him in the shoulder in mock anger and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her. ‘It’s true..”

“I know it’s true, you idiot,” Reagan replied as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry again, Mark. I never meant for this to happen.”

“Don’t apologize, Reagan. You love who you love. Can’t be helped,” he said easily as he released her. Just then a car honked below and Reagan stood up. “Cab’s here.” Mark stood up and grabbed her bags. “I’ll take these down for you.”

“Okay,” Reagan replied as she picked up her purse. Mark headed out into the living room and Reagan followed, taking one last look around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Satisfied that she hadn’t, she followed Mark out to the cab and hugged him briefly. As she got in the cab, she tried to calm herself down, to forget the images she had just seen on the television. Hopefully a few days of business in Ontario would clear her head.


	35. Chapter 35

**Back to the present (end of December)**

Reagan flicked the lights on in her office and dropped her things in her chair. Only 8 hours and then she’d be off for a few days. Maybe she’d even take a week. She had been working herself to the bone, throwing herself into work in an effort to forget about Michael. She knew she couldn’t maintain this pace though –wasn’t good for her or the clients. No, she would take a week off at least. She opened up her MacBook and began preparing for the day, checking her schedule and catching up on some billing issues.

* * *

 

2 days later and Reagan was at her mother’s new apartment. They were going to get dolled up and head out to one of her mother’s friends’ house. Reagan had a sneaking suspicion that this friend was more than a friend, but she’d let her mother spill when she was ready. Lord knows the woman deserved some happiness after all the shit she had been through with Paul.

Reagan’s lips turned up in disgust at the very thought of that man’s name. Paul and Kevin had served quite a bit of time, with Kevin serving more due to being found guilty of rape. Not only of raping Reagan, but two additional girls that had come forward once the story broke. Apparently the asshole had other women on the side that were just as unwilling as Reagan was. Paul, on the other hand, had been released fairly early, but it did him no good. 2 months after being released from the county prison, his business had fallen apart and Paul had a heart attack that ultimately killed him. Although Reagan didn’t wish death on anyone, she could not find it in her heart to have any sympathy for the man. The bastard got what he deserved. Besides that, it was very likely the only way her mother would have ever escaped him. No, Reagan thought resolutely, everything had worked out the way it should have. Kevin still had at least another year to go before he was eligible for parole, and Reagan was fairly convinced that she was done with the man and would never have to deal with him again.

“You ready, mom?” Reagan called up the stairs. “We’re going to be late.” Reagan gasped as her mom came down the stairs, looking beautiful and so happy. Yep. This "friend" was more than a friend, Reagan smiled to herself.

“Well?” her mom asked her as she stepped of the bottom of the stairs and twirled around. “How do I look?” Reagan looked her mother over appreciatively, her smile growing wider as her mother twirled again. The black, slinky top was a perfect fit for her mother’s dark auburn hair, and her dark, black slacks complemented the outfit. Her mother was really stunning when she wasn’t being beat the hell up. She had topped it off with some fire-engine red pumps, the heel higher than Reagan had ever seen.

“You look great mom! The heels are a bit outrageous, but…” Reagan teased and her mother smiled back.

“These old things?” her mother chuckled as she looked down at her feet. Reagan cocked an eyebrow as she regarded her mother carefully.

“So…what’s his name?” she asked slyly. She laughed as her mother blushed under her gaze and fiddled with her earrings.

“He’s just a friend,” her mother replied hastily and Reagan laughed again. She grabbed her cell and purse, and along with her keys, she ushered her mother out and to the car.

“Okay. Let’s go see your _friend_ , mom,” Reagan appeased her as they waited for the car to warm up again. “It’s fine, mom. Really. You deserve to be happy.” She smiled over at her mother and patted her leg gently. Reagan’s mother covered her hand with her own and smiled back at her daughter.

“So do you, sweetheart,” she said quietly and Reagan closed her eyes against the innuendo. “Have you heard from him?” Reagan knew she wasn’t talking about Mark.

“No. He’s moved on, mom. He has a girlfriend and everything. It’s over, and I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind,” Reagan replied tersely. She moved her hand back to the steering wheel and put the car in reverse. “Now where is this place at?”

* * *

 

 

_“4, 3, 2, 1!”_ the crowd cheered as the new year arrived, hugs and kisses and champagne flowing. Reagan grinned at her mother from where she was watching across the room, trying to be discreet about her spying. John kissed her mother lightly on the lips and her mother leaned into him. The two of them were so stinking cute and Reagan blinked back tears of happiness at her mother’s happiness. She was thrilled for her and this new chapter in her life. She took another sip of her champagne, waving off a few people that once again asked her to dance.

“I’m good, thank you!” she called, shooing them back out onto the floor good-humoredly. She jumped when her phone buzzed in her hand and she set her glass down to look at it, taking one last big sip.

**Michael: Happy new year’s**

Reagan nearly spit her drink out, choking it down as she tried to swallow the mouthful she had just taken before setting her glass down. She stared at her phone, her heart beating fast as she tried to read between the lines of those three little words. What did he mean by that? Was he really wishing her a happy new year’s? Was he being sarcastic? Should she respond? Oh god what should she do?! She quickly typed in her pass code and responded. Fuck the consequences. She may never get this opportunity again.

**Reagan: Happy new year’s to you too!**

She chewed on her nail as she waited to see if he would text back. She grabbed her glass and downed the contents, choking again as the bubbles burned her nose. Her phone buzzed again.

**Michael: How are you?**

Oh god he was texting back!

**Reagan: Good. How are you?**

Chewing nail again….

**Michael: Good. Busy. Just finished a movie.**

Reagan frowned, the television interview coming back to haunt her. She picked up her champagne glass and groaned, realizing it was empty. She set it back down on the table harshly. Her hands were shaking as she stared at her phone. She had kicked him out both times. This was all her fault and she had no one to blame but herself.

**Reagan: Congratulations! I saw the interview.**

**Michael: You did?**

**Reagan: Yeah. She’s pretty. I am happy for you.**

There was the lie of the century! She was anything but happy for him, but what could she do? Reagan motioned for the server that was walking around with the champagne. She held her fingers up for two glasses, knowing she probably needed 4 or 5 but she could wait til she got home to get trashed. The server set the glasses down and Reagan grabbed one, taking a huge swallow as she stared at her phone.

**Michael: Thanks. How’s Mark?**

Reagan’s heart dropped. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything about the girlfriend, and if she asked him she would only look more desperate than she already was.

**Reagan: He’s good. We’re not together anymore.**

**Michael: Sorry to hear that**

**Reagan: For the best**

She swallowed the contents of the first glass and took a deep breath. They didn’t put very much champagne in these damn glasses - that was for sure! She looked out into the crowd and found her mother. It was a slow song, and her mother was wrapped up in John’s arms, her head resting against his chest. Despite being happy for her mother, she couldn’t help but be a tad bit jealous. She was sitting in a corner on New Year’s Eve and texting her ex-boyfriend for fuck’s sake! What a damn loser she was!

**Michael: I wish you all the best, Ronnie**

Reagan’s heart lurched in her chest once again at his use of her nickname. When he found out how much she adored Ronald Reagan, he had given her the name and it stuck. No one else called her that. Only him. Her fingers typed out her next text too fast, her brain not registering what it was doing before it was too late.

**Reagan: I miss you**

“Fuck!” Reagan hissed, wishing there was some way to undo that damn text! Why hadn’t anybody invented that just yet? People did stupid shit when they were drunk texting! Fuck! She grabbed the second glass and took a long drink, swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing it. She was feeling warm and buzzed, the champagne finally working. Her phone buzzed in her hand again and she looked at it in dread, not knowing what was coming.

**Michael: Take care, Ronnie. I have to go.**

“Huh…” Reagan mumbled to herself as she stared down at the phone. There was a shove-off if she ever saw one. She tilted the glass up and took another drink as her eyes filled with tears. “Well fuck you too, Fassbender! You and your perfect fucking girlfriend!” she mumbled as she powered her phone off. She stood up, wobbly and dizzy as she tried to find her mother. She needed to get home where she could wallow in self-pity properly. She spotted her mom and stumbled up to her, clutching at her mother who stared back in shock at the tears on her daughter’s face.

“Reagan! Sweetie! What’s wrong?” her mother asked as John looked on in concern. Reagan shook her head sadly at her mother.

“I just want to go home, mom,” Reagan pleaded with her, the tears running down her cheek. “Can you please take me home? I’m drunk and I can’t drive. Please, mom.”

Her mother turned to John and apologized, but he waved her off.

“Nonsense, sweetie. Take care of your daughter,” John said. His concern for her and his gentleness with her mother only made Reagan break down even more. She shoved her fist in her mouth as she tried to stop the sobs that wanted to escape. John and her mother escorted her to the car and helped Reagan get in, buckling her up and shutting the door. Reagan closed her eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep, still crying as she did so.

* * *

 

“Reagan, sweetie, get up,” Reagan heard her mother’s voice in her ear, calling to her from the inky darkness. She just wanted to sleep….she pushed her mother’s hand away, mumbling curse words under her breath.

“Reagan! It’s too cold out here! Wake up!” her mother said again, shaking Reagan firmly. Reagan groaned and rolled out of the car in aggravation.

“God! Okay! Just let me get out of the car,” Reagan mumbled under her breath, stumbling as she did so. Her mother caught her and the two walked up to the house. Her mother opened the door to Reagan’s house and they stumbled inside. Reagan squinted as the lights came on, the brightness blinding her. She shielded her eyes as she tried to regain her bearings. Everything was spinning…

“Reagan? I’m going to grab my stuff from the car, dear. Be right back.”

“’kay,” Reagan mumbled as she stumbled into the kitchen. She knew exactly what she needed. She reached down into a lower cabinet, pulling out the bottle. It was here that her mother found her 15 minutes later, slumped against the cabinet door and the bottle of tequila between her legs. She took another sip and whined as her mother snatched the bottle out of her hands.

“What is wrong with you?” her mother demanded, staring down at Reagan in aggravation. “You can’t drink straight from the bottle! Especially not tequila!”

Reagan started laughing, so hard that she fell over and lay flat on the floor. “Course you can, _mother_ ,” Reagan slurred out, dragging out the word mother. “It’s the best way.” She kept giggling as her mother knelt down beside her.

“I’m worried about you, Reagan. I’ve never seen you drink this way,” her mother said as she pushed the hair off her daughter’s face.

“’Cause you don’t know me very well,” Reagan whispered as if she were telling a secret.

“Reagan, baby, tell me what’s going on?” her mother asked, concern still heavy in her voice. She helped Reagan move so that her head was resting in her mother’s lap, and she continued stroking her daughter’s hair as she waited. “Reagan?”

“He texted me, mom,” Reagan mumbled against her mother’s let. She was crying now, her tears soaking her mother’s pretty, black jeans.

“And what did he say, baby?”

“Happy new year’s,” Reagan whispered, her tears choking her. “I said his girlfriend was pretty, and he said thanks, so that means that she’s really his girlfriend right? Right?! Then I said I missed him and he said he had to go.” Reagan was sobbing now, her voice strangled as she tried to talk. “He said take care and he had to go!”

“Oh sweetie! I am so sorry,” her mother said soothingly, her hand still smoothing down Reagan’s hair. Reagan lay there on her mother’s lap crying, her sobs wracking her body as she grieved once again for Michael.

“I….should….have…given him another…chance,” Reagan choked out, her voice breaking as she continued to cry.

"You didn't know, baby. I don't know everything that happened between the two of you, but you seemed to be very angry and hurt. We do stupid things when we are hurt, just as we do stupid things when we love someone," her mother said softly as Reagan cried. "I don't know what to tell you, sweetie. I hate that you are going through this. What can I do to help you?"

"Nothing," Reagan replied. She sniffled and wiped at her nose as she struggled to sit up. "I need to go to the bathroom. I think I am going to be-" Reagan hopped up as fast as she could and leaned over the sink, emptying the contents of her stomach there. She heaved and retched a few more times, her stomach not having much in it other than the liquor she had consumed. When the dry heaves finally passed, she slid down the cabinets again, her hands shaking and her brow sweaty. She looked at her mother and smiled weakly.

"That is why you don't drink tequila from the bottle," she said, her voice shaky. Reagan's mother grinned at her and handed her the wet dishrag she had been holding. Reagan took it and wiped her forehead and face, the coolness of the rag helping somewhat. "I think I'm going to go lay down, mom. Are you staying her or what?" Reagan asked as she began standing up carefully. The damn room was spinning and she felt a wave of nausea hit again, causing her to lean back over the sink. She turned on the cold water and splashed her face, sighing in relief as the water came out icy cold.

"I think I'll go home if you'll be alright?" her mother asked her. Reagan turned to look at her mother, her hesitant tone a dead giveaway.

"You're meeting John?" Reagan chuckled a bit, wincing as it turned her stomach again. She waved her mother off though. "Go mom. It's fine, really. I am just going to go to bed." Reagan stood up once again, her knees shaky.  Her mother gripped her arm, steadying her as they began walking to the bedroom.

"You sure, Reagan? You don't need me to stay?" her mother asked as she helped Reagan down onto the bed. Again Reagan shushed her, her hand waving at her.

"Go mom. At least one of us will have a good time," Reagan muttered under her breath as she collapsed against her pillows. "Can you bring my phone just in case? It's in my purse."

"Sure. Be right back," her mother replied. A few moments later she brought Reagan her purse and cell, along with a bottle of water. Reagan was already snoring and her mother sighed. She was so sad for her daughter. She deserved happiness after all the stuff she had been through because of her bringing Paul and Kevin into her life. She smoothed the hair off Reagan's head and kissed her forehead tenderly before tucking her in. She turned on her phone and set it beside the table along with the water and turned the lights off as she exited the room quietly. She hoped and prayed that things would work out for her daughter. She had been nursing this heartache for far too long.


	36. Chapter 36

**14 February (Saturday)**

Reagan pushed another spoonful of Ben &Jerry’s Red Velvet ice cream into her mouth as she flicked the channels on the television. It was raining, and cold, and she was miserable as fuck. Her mother was on a mini-vacation with John, the two of them slipping away down to Marble Falls to celebrate Valentines’ Day. Reagan was here alone, wallowing in misery and self-pity of course. It was almost 6pm and she had been watching reruns of _The Walking Dead_ as the new season was getting ready to kick off. She popped the cap off of her beer and took a sip, the Guinness not tasting too well with the ice cream, but whatever…

A knock came at the door and Reagan startled, the show, and the lights being off and the rain getting to her. Zombies were somewhat scary when you were watching them alone. In the dark. With the rain and thunder outside!

She peeled herself off the couch, unwrapping from the blankets and walked to the door. She peered out of the peephole and her brows drew together in confusion. It was some teenager with a huge vase of roses. A huge vase. Probably at least 3-4 dozen. Plus a balloon and a teddy bear. She slowly opened the door, still confused as she did so.

“I think you have the wrong address…” she began as the guy held out the pad for her to sign.

“Dr. Reagan Dunworth?” he asked her flatly. He appeared to be bored out of his mind, the little shit.

“Yes.” Reagan answered as she signed the block with her name. The kid ripped off the paper and handed her the slip before he handed the roses to her. Reagan shuffled them in her arms, trying to balance everything as he handed her the bear and the balloons.

“Oh hold on, ma’am” the kid said as he turned to the truck. Reagan looked at him in confusion still. He reached in his truck and pulled out a box and ran back to Reagan. She set the roses down inside the door on the floor and turned back to him. He handed her the other item and quickly walked away.

“Thanks!” Reagan called out sarcastically. That company should really pay attention to who they hired – the drivers were slightly unfriendly to say the least. The kid said nothing as he hopped in his truck and drove away. Regan closed the door and looked down at all the things he had just dropped off, and shook her head in amazement. Who the hell had sent all this stuff? She closed her eyes when she thought that it had to be Mark. They were still talking off and on, but nothing like before. Reagan knew he still had feelings for her but she had made it abundantly clear that she was not going back there with him, and that she only wanted to be friends.

She carried the roses into the living room and set them on the coffee table before returning and grabbing everything else. The teddy bear was cute – a white, fluff bear with hearts on his paws. She smiled as she set the bear down and reached for the card that was tucked in the roses. She pulled it out and opened it. She sank down on the couch as she read those four little words:

_**I miss you too** _

Reagan covered her mouth with her hand, her fingers shaking as she read the card again.

_**I miss you too** _

She turned the card over, searching for anything that would tell her it wasn’t Michael who sent these flowers, because right now she really wanted to believe it was him. It had to be him! Who else would have done this?

_**I miss you too** _

She looked for her phone, grabbing it frantically off the table and dropping it in her haste. She picked it up, typed in her pass code and immediately scrolled to his last text message to her.

**Michael: Take care Ronnie. I have to go**

That still stung like a bitch, even now, she thought with a frown. His text was so dismissive, and so final. She looked back at the card and back at her phone again, wondering what to do. If it wasn’t Michael who sent the flowers, she’d look like a complete idiot. If it was, and she didn’t text him, he might think she was ungrateful. Or that she didn’t get them. Or something. It only took her about 2 seconds to decide that she was going to text him and hope and pray that it was he that had sent the flowers. She had to take a chance, she had to know one way or the other. What to say, what to say…she thought as she nibbled on her nail. Her hands were shaking as she typed out the text, her fingers screwing up the words.

**Reagan: Thank you**

She sent it, letting out the breath she had been holding. If he hadn’t sent her anything, he would not know what she was talking about. If he did send them, he’d know and he’d understand. She waited, holding her breath again as the little bubbles popped up on her iPhone. He was typing something back!

**Michael: You’re welcome**

Reagan started grinning and if she were to be honest she wanted to cry! He had sent it all. For her! On Valentine’s Day!

**Michael: Did you like the cake pops?**

Reagan looked around again in confusion. Cake pops? She looked over to the box, the one she hadn’t opened yet. She quickly opened it and grinned again, and yes – now she was crying. The bastard had sent her cake pops. He knew how much she loved red velvet and here were a dozen red velvet cake pops. All for her! She wiped at her face – happy tears - and grabbed her cell phone again and texted him back.

**Reagan: OMG! I love them! I just found them!**

**Michael: Save one for me?**

**Reagan: Sorry. Can’t do that…**

**Michael: Wow. Greedy!**

**Reagan: Don’t come between a girl and her red velvet cake pops**

**Michael: Apparently…**

Reagan took another sip of her beer and settled back on the couch, wrapping up in the blanket as she texted him back.

**Reagan: A girl’s gotta eat…**

She giggled as she sent that text, chewing on her nail again.

**Michael: A girl doesn’t have to eat all the cake pops though….**

**Reagan: This girl does!**

**Michael: I don’t remember you being so greedy…**

**Reagan: I’ve changed haha**

She took another bite of ice cream and set it down. It was melting all over the place – more like a milk shake now. Yuck.

**Michael: Have you?**

Reagan frowned at her phone, not understanding his question.

**Reagan: Have I what?**

**Michael: Changed**

Reagan grew somber as the conversation took the turn she was dreading. Dreading and hoping for – all at the same time. She desperately wanted Michael to know that she wasn’t crazy anymore, that she had dealt with her stuff from the past for the most part, and she was healthy now. She was in a much better place now than before and somehow she had to prove it to him.

**Reagan: Can I call you?**

**Michael: Not a good time. Sorry.**

Reagan sighed. Either he was lying or he was really doing something. Or he didn’t want to talk to her. Or he was in a meeting. Fuck! Her mind was playing games with her, the insecurity and doubt weighing heavily on her as she contemplated her next text.

**Reagan: Ok, sorry.**

**Michael: Don’t be. Call me later?**

Reagan started grinning again and yes, she started crying once again. Maybe he did want to talk to her? Whatever! She was going with it, that he did want to talk to her. He wouldn’t have asked her to call him if he didn’t right?

**Reagan: Ok. When?**

**Michael: In about 2 hours? Give me time to get back to my room…**

**Reagan: Ok**

**Michael: Ok**

Reagan didn’t text him back - didn’t want to seem too desperate - but she was freaking out. He asked her to call him and he had sent all of this stuff to her, including her favorite flavor in the form of a cake pop! That had to mean something, right? She was halted in her tracks when she thought of his girlfriend. Did he still have a girlfriend? Why would he be sending her roses and candy if he had a girlfriend? Surely he didn’t have a girlfriend, right? Right? Like a complete creeper, she looked him up on the internet and searched for any news of a breakup. She frowned in aggravation as she found none whatsoever. She did find lots and lots of pictures of him with this girl – this beautiful, leggy, gorgeous girl – and she got more and more pissed. She closed her browser and threw her phone down as if it were on fire. She needed to calm down before she worked herself up even further. She would just have to believe that Michael was not screwing around with her, that he didn’t have a girlfriend and that he really wanted to talk to her. She clung to that thought as she minutes ticked slowly by, her anxiety rising ever higher as she waited.


	37. Chapter 37

It was 4 minutes after the time Michael said to call and Reagan was staring at her phone as she chewed on another nail. Should she call him now? Would that seem too desperate if she called right at the exact time? But it wasn’t the exact time – she argued with herself – it was now 5 minutes after when he said to call. Just call Reagan, just call, she coached herself, trying to summon up the nerve to press the "call" button. She was spared, though, when her phone buzzed in her hand. She couldn’t stop grinning when she realized it was Michael calling. She quickly pushed the "answer" button and put the phone to her ear.

“Hi,” she squeaked out, her voice strained.

“Hi,” Michael replied, sounding just as confident and sure of himself as he ever did.

“I was going to call, but…” Reagan trailed off, not knowing what to say. She heard Michael chuckle on the other line.

“But you were too busy eating all the cake pops? I figured as much,” he teased, and Reagan laughed, relaxing a bit now. He was teasing her! She sighed in relief because he was teasing her.

“I didn’t eat them all, Michael,” she said, leaning over and grabbing another cake pop just because. “I left you a piece of one.”

“Well thank god,” he said in mock sarcasm. Reagan laughed out loud and Michael did, too. This felt so good. To laugh with him, to not be fighting and arguing. “How are you, Reagan?” he asked softly, and Reagan sobered up at his more serious tone.

“I’m good, Michael. Really good. How are you?”

“Good. Things are going good work-wise. The movie was fairly successful,” he replied easily and Reagan wondered if he was doing it on purpose. She needed to know about the girlfriend, damnit! Should she just come outright and ask him? Fuck! She chewed on the cake pop stick as she contemplated what to do. “We broke up, Reagan,” Michael said, his voice smooth as he gave her the info she wanted so badly but was too afraid to ask for.

“I was wondering,” Reagan said quietly, barely breathing.

“Yeah. It was for the best,” he replied easily.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Michael,” Reagan said, the obligatory sympathy going against everything in her fiber. She was absolutely not sorry that he was no longer with that bitch, but whatever…

“Don’t be. Things work out how they should, right?” he asked her, and Reagan would swear that there was something else behind his question. She opened her mouth to answer but he spoke again, cutting her off. “What are you doing right now?” Reagan blinked at the direction the conversation took, her mind trying to play catch up.

“I’m..uh…I’m uh watching _The Walking Dead_ ,” she answered him. “And eating. And drinking. Well I was drinking. What are you doing?”

“Talking to you,” he replied, and Reagan could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Smartass,” Reagan teased and Michael chuckled again.

“Did you mean it?” Michael asked and Reagan frowned again, not understanding what he was asking once more.  His tone had gone from light to serious very quickly..

“Did I mean what?”

“On New Year’s, when you texted and said you missed me. Did you mean it?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes.”

“You weren’t drinking and texting?” Michael asked skeptically.

“I was drinking - a lot – but I meant it, Michael,” Reagan answered softly before grimacing. “I did get really wasted that evening though. After you sent me the text telling me you had to go, I think I drank a whole bottle of tequila.” Reagan’s stomach turned just thinking about how sick she felt on New Year’s day. She didn’t get out of bed til after 2pm, her stomach not allowing it.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said and he truly sounded so. “It caught me off-guard is all.”

“And you had a girlfriend,” Reagan said a bit harshly. She immediately regretted her words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Why did you break-up?” Reagan asked and once again she could kick herself for asking such stupid questions. God! Really, Reagan!?!?

“She wasn’t you,” Michael answered simply and Reagan gasped. He wasn’t done. “I tried hard as fuck to make it work, but I couldn’t do it. I knew I was treating her unfairly and so I ended it.”

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

“Quit saying that. I’m not sorry and you shouldn’t be either. Why did you break up with Mark?”

Reagan laughed now, remembering the final straw. That damn interview was what had sealed the deal.

“It was the interview,” Reagan said, laughing again.

“The interview?”

“The one for your movie. With her. I knew I needed to break up with him and I think he knew it too, but that interview sent me over the edge and we ended it that day,” she admitted sheepishly. “I was pretty mad, Michael.”

“Now you know how I feel,” he retorted, the anger in his voice unmistakable but Reagan didn't react to it. He had every right to feel the way he did. “Did you really sleep with him? The day I left, like you said?”

“No. We never slept together. Ever,” Reagan admitted honestly, and she swore she heard Michael gasp on the other line. “I don’t want to know about you and this girl, so don’t tell me anything, please.”

“Right,” Michael said quietly, and Reagan thought she heard some regret there but she couldn’t be sure...

“We were broken up, Michael. Just like before. We were broken up, and I had no say in what you did and you had no say in what I did,” Reagan offered softly and again she swore she heard Michael gasp.

“Wow,” he said just as softly, his tone full of amazement. “You’ve changed, Ronnie. I’m shocked, you know?”

Reagan smiled and replied, “Yeah. I’ve done lots of work and I’ve changed some things, Michael. I’m not perfect, but I am trying.”

“I was pissed when I said that, Reagan,” Michael replied, both of them thinking back to their last conversation. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. You were right, and it took me a good long while to realize it,” she replied, and again Reagan felt the tears start building. “It took me losing everything to realize what needed to happen. I’m so sorry, Michael. So sorry for the way I treated you, and the way I blamed you. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Reagan -,” Michael began, only to be interrupted by her.

“No, Michael, let me finish please?”

"Okay."

"When we met I should have never gotten involved with you, and you know that, Michael. Deep down you know that we should have never gotten together. I had too much crazy stuff going on that I was running from, but that I couldn't escape. You were like an escape for me, Michael. I was able to be pissed at you, to fight with you, to yell at you - all of those things and you never once laid a hand on me. It was liberating for sure, and I abused that power that I finally had. I know this now. Instead of allowing you to help me, I pushed you away. I know that I pushed you out the door and into someone's arms, and while that still pisses me off," she took a deep breath to steady herself before continuing, "I understand why it happened and I don't blame you anymore."

Reagan finished and waited a moment, getting concerned as Michael didn't speak. She began to wonder if she had said the wrong thing, or misjudged him, or something when he finally spoke.

"I'm shocked, Ronnie," he stated simply and Reagan could hear the awe in his voice. "Really...I don't know what to say. This is not the conversation I thought we would be having."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Reagan asked in uncertainty. She had no idea how Michael would react to all that she had told him. It was definitely a far cry from the conversation that they had the last time they saw each other.

"It's a very good thing, love," Michael replied, and Reagan felt her heart lift a bit when he called her "love." It had been so long and she was sure she'd never hear that come out of his mouth ever again. They sat there for a moment, the silence deafening.

"Thank you for the flowers and stuff, Michael," Reagan said, reaching for anything to fill the silence. Michael chuckled on the other line. "It really made my day."

"Welcome, love," Michael said, and again Reagan smiled. She wanted to reach through the phone and grab him. She wondered if he was clean-shaven, or if he had that stubble that she adored? Was he still thin, or had he put weight back on? God! She just wanted to touch him! She didn't want to press, though, not when they seemed to be making some progress in a positive direction.  Again the silence!

"Can you say something, please?" Reagan finally broke, the silence and short answers killing her.

"What would you like me to say?" Michael queried, his voice smooth as whiskey. She could sit here and listen to him talk all day long and never tire of his voice.

"I don't know! Something?"

"Something..." Michael said, laughing as he did so. Reagan frowned in aggravation and shook her head.

"Jerk."

"I'm sorry, love! You just make it too easy for me," Michael laughed as he spoke and Reagan couldn't help but laugh at him.  She grabbed another cake pop and took a bite.

"Well I just ate the last cake pop, so there!"

"Hmmm," Michael replied and Reagan could picture him rubbing his chin. "I guess I'll just have to bring you more then."

Reagan stopped chewing, swallowing the moist cake down before it choked her. What did he mean by that?

"What...what are you saying, Michael?" Reagan set the unfinished cake pop down and waited, her breathing shallow in anticipation.

"I want to start over, Reagan," Michael said softly, and Reagan felt the heat rush all over her body. "That is, if you want to?"

"Yes!" Reagan replied hastily, her cheeks heating in embarrassment as she heard Michael laugh at her. "I mean...yes...if you want to," she said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"I'd very much like to, Reagan. I want to start over from scratch as much as possible. Do you think we could do that?" he asked her, his tone hopeful. "I miss you so fucking much, love."

"I miss you calling me love, Michael," Reagan whispered into the phone. She swore her heart was going to beat out of her chest at any moment! "And I miss you. So much it hurts." And... turn on the waterworks - here come the tears. Reagan sniffled, trying to be quiet as she wiped at her nose and eyes.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," Michael said, his voice soothing now. "Would you like to come here, or should I come to you?"

"I don't have any days scheduled off, so..."

"So I'll come to you," Michael said, the decision made. "When should I come?"

"Right now?" Reagan asked hopefully and she giggled through her tears as she heard Michael laugh.

"I wish I could, love. I might be able to get out of here in the next few days, but I've got work to do still," he said, aggravation creeping back into his voice. "Want to shoot for next weekend? Maybe Friday or Saturday? I should be done by then, and maybe you could schedule a few days off?"

"I could do that. Give me time to schedule off," Reagan answered eagerly. She was still teary-eyed but her frown had been replaced with a grin that was threatening to split her cheeks. She could not believe this turn of events, this second chance!

"Okay that's what we'll do then," Michael said. "As soon as I know I'll let you know?"

"Please," Reagan answered matter-of-factly, and Michael laughed again.

"I don't know if I'll be able to function the next few days, love," Michael told her, his voice secretive.

"Me neither, and that's why I think you should come right now," Reagan replied. She heard Michael groan and it went straight to the pit of her stomach, that sound having been so foreign for so long.

"Fuck, Ronnie! I wish I could! What do they say? Absence makes you happier, or some shit like that?"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Reagan corrected him as she laughed at him.

"Well I am very fond right now," Michael remarked, causing Reagan to laugh yet again at his petulant tone. "Don't laugh at me, woman," he warned her in mock anger.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I'll stop," Reagan giggled again.

"Hey, Reagan, hold on a minute. Got another call coming through."

"Sure," Reagan replied, waiting as he switched over and spoke to whoever it was. When he came back on the line Reagan knew their time was up for now.

"I've got to take this call, love. It's a job I am looking at..." Michael trailed off. When they were together before a phone call like this could be very problematic for then, with Reagan vying for his time to the point of causing fights. Not this time, though.

"It's okay Michael. I need to get some rest anyway, so go do what you gotta do and call me later?"

"Wow, babe," Michael said, his voice shocked again.

"Just hurry up and get here," Reagan ordered in her best commanding voice.

"Yes ma'am!" Michael said and Reagan grinned again.

"I'll talk to you later then?" she asked, sitting up and dropping the blanket as she picked up her ice cream container and headed to the kitchen.

"Soon, love. As soon as I can get there."

"Okay call me later," Reagan said as she dropped her ice cream container in the trash and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Okay, sweetheart. Talk with you soon."

With that, Reagan hung up the phone and sat there at the small table, her thoughts running wild. Maybe she and Michael had a chance after all? Whatever it was, and however fleeting it was, she was damned sure not going to screw it up like she did last time. Absolutely not. 

 

 

 

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Friday...**

 

  **Michael: Just landed**

**Reagan: You sure you don’t want me to come get you?**

**Michael: No. I got a cab.**

**Reagan: Ok see you soon**

Reagan sat back down on the couch but her legs and feet would not stop moving. She was so nervous, so freaked out! She was almost grateful for not having to go get Michael as she knew she was way too worked up. They had been talking off and on throughout the week and both had decided that they were going to take things extremely slow.  So slow that Michael was not even going to be staying with her. He had actually reserved a room at a nearby hotel to stay in while he was here. While this aggravated Reagan, she knew why he was doing things the way he was. He had said as much in a few of their phone conversations. He was scared and he didn’t trust her. He wanted her, and wanted to be close, but she had hurt him very badly and he didn’t want to go through that again. So they had agreed to play it safe, to literally start from scratch. Reagan didn’t even know if he was staying with her at all as they’d not yet discussed it. He hadn’t brought it up and she was too scared to broach that subject.

Not able to sit still any longer, she got up and ran to the bathroom to check her makeup once more.  Everything was in place – mascara, lipstick –all there, even though she wasn’t much of a makeup person. Her outfit was plain as well, jeans and a nice shirt that she felt completely uncomfortable in.  Jeans and a tshirt were her usual outfit, but she wanted to look nice for Michael. She jumped when the doorbell rang and she walked briskly – ran – down the hallway to get the door. She opened it and there he was. He was grinning at her and she melted, her breath leaving her body. He was gorgeous and gingery and all muscles and perfect! His beard was full, a bright red that was almost shocking and his hair was longer, curling out from under his beanie. He had definitely put some weight back on, his broad shoulders filling out the jacket he was wearing.

“Can I come in?” he asked playfully, drawing Reagan’s appraising eyes back up to his. She flushed immediately and stepped back, opening the door wider as he came in.

“I’m sorry!” she apologized, her cheeks on fire. Michael laughed at her as he rolled his luggage in and set it near the door. He dropped his bag next to his suitcase as Reagan closed the door behind him. She leaned up against the door, her eyes still on him in as she took in every last detail. Those damn jeans and the way the hung low on his slim hips, that small peek of skin she saw as he unzipped his jacket and hung it up. She was biting her lip as she stared at him, her body flush as he turned to her.

“Hi,” he said, a grin on his face.  All those damn teeth, a stark contrast to that beautiful red beard that she wanted to run her fingers through.  She involuntarily reached out and touched his chin, her fingers moving through the coarse hair. Michael’s grin got even bigger and Reagan pulled back in embarrassment.

"It’s very red, isn’t it? It’s for a role.”

“Uh…yeah..” Reagan mumbled, unable to form any coherent words. He had literally rendered her speechless. The fact that he was standing in her foyer had thrown her for a loop. She never thought she would be given this chance ever again, and here he was – big, and gingery and his smell – damn but it was intoxicating.

“Reagan?” Michael asked her as he stepped closer. Reagan jumped, pulled out of her thoughts as her heated face met his.

“You want something to drink?” she squeaked out as she walked quickly to the kitchen. Her hands were shaking as she pulled down a glass. “I have juice, and soda, and beer. And water. I have water if you want that?” Michael had followed her and was now right behind her. She came face to face with him as she turned around and he grabbed the glass out of her hand before she dropped it. He set it on the counter, never taking his eyes off of her.

“Don’t you-” Reagan began, only to be silenced when Michael kissed her softly. He cupped her cheeks gently as his lips moved over hers, and Reagan was lost. The feel of his lips against hers, the scratch of his beard – his fucking smell! It was sensory overload and she was lost, her mind going blank as her body reacted to him of its own accord. She grasped his waist, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his light sweater. Oh god she could feel the heat coming off his body, feel the hardness of him as he pressed against her. She moaned lightly when Michael pulled back, his intense blue eyes searching her face. Reagan stared back at him through a fog, her lips parted and red from his kiss.

“I said hi, love,” Michael whispered, his thumbs rubbing along her jaw line.

“Hi,” Reagan said, her voice still ridiculously high-pitched, licking her lips as she did so. Her breath caught as she saw Michael’s eyes darken - her action not going unnoticed.

“We should go sit down, right?” he said, his husky voice doing things to Reagan’s lower body.  She nodded at him quickly and followed him to the living room. They both sat down on the couch, each at different ends and neither saying anything. Finally Reagan broke the silence, unable to be quiet any longer.

“So how was your flight?” She groaned as soon as the words left her mouth. What a stupid question! She cut her eyes at Michael, her embarrassment furthering when he chuckled and leaned back against the pillows.

“Boring. The usual,” he replied easily, the smile still on his face.

“That’s good,” Reagan replied, shaking her head at herself once again. Stupid, stupid, stupid!! “Are you hungry?” At least that was a better question…

“No,” Michael said, still smiling at her. Reagan couldn’t take it any longer.

“Oh my god, Michael! I am so freaked out right now!” she said anxiously, standing up and walking over to the window that showed the backyard. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, trying to calm her emotions and rising anxiety. She stiffened momentarily as Michael came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, his nose nuzzling the hair at her neck. She shivered against his touch, her heart beating even faster than before.

"Why?” he asked her as he pushed her hair aside and continued kissing her neck. That damn beard was scratching her and driving her insane!

“It’s….just….weird,” she panted, her breath uneven as his lips continued moving across her skin. He nipped at her shoulder near her bra strap and she twisted her head, giving him better access. She moved her hands down and gripped his thighs, holding him against her even tighter.

“What’s weird?” he murmured as he slid one hand down and across her stomach, resting it right above the waistband of her jeans. She didn’t want to breathe, couldn’t breathe with his hand there.

“This….you…oh God!” she cried as he nipped at her ear lobe, almost painful in its’ pleasure. She felt an explosion of wetness between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache there. Michael grinned against her neck and kissed her once more before he turned her around to face him. Again he was grinning down at her, but Reagan could tell he was just as affected as she was, his erection hard against her stomach as he hugged her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, and Reagan wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingers relishing the hard muscles of his back.

“I miss you,” he said against her neck as he hugged her, and Reagan’s emotions flipped, passion turning to sadness at his tone. She hugged him tighter and squeezed her eyes shut to try to stop the tears from slipping out, but it was no use. She cursed herself, aggravated that she was already crying. Michael pulled back from her and looked at her face, his brows drawn together in concern. “Ronnie? What’s wrong, love?”

She shrugged her shoulders helplessly and shook her head as she continued crying softly. Michael used his thumbs to wipe away her tears, his lips on her cheeks picking up where his thumbs missed. He nuzzled her nose lightly with his and Reagan giggled through her tears, his beard and mustache tickling her lips. Michael grinned at her again and kissed her softly.

“Want to go sit down again?” he asked her, and she nodded. He took her hand and led her back to the couch. This time they sat next to each other, and Reagan sighed in relief as Michael pulled her back against his chest. He kissed her temple and nuzzled her nose, and she giggled again.

“Your beard is tickling me,” she giggled again, wiggling against him as she did so. Michael chuckled behind her and leaned back, pulling her back with him. They sat in silence for a while, both just being happy to be together once again. Michael finally broke the silence this time, and his somber tone startled Reagan.

“I was hesitant about coming, love,” he admitted and Reagan stiffened in his arms.

“Why?”

“Last time was too much for me,” he said quietly and Reagan closed her eyes in regret. “All the fighting and shit, wanting to get back together, and then that argument. I broke my damn hand that night, love.” Reagan looked down at his hand where it was resting on her waist and ran her fingers across it lightly, remembering that night vividly.

“I was so angry with you, Michael,” she began, her voice heavy with emotion. “I know we were broken up but I couldn’t believe you would do that and it pissed me off. And it hurt. It still hurts…”

“I know, Ronnie, and I would take it back if I could, but I can’t,” Michael argued softly. “That is why I was hesitant to come. I can understand you being mad, and hurt, but I can’t handle you holding it over my head. I can't have you kicking me out over and over again. I can't do it. I made a mistake, sweetheart. I thought we were broken up. You kicked me out so many times and that time I finally left, and I was so fucking pissed at you.”

Reagan felt him tense underneath her and she sat up and scooted away from him. She faced him, her back against the armrest at the opposite end of the couch. Michael had sat up as well, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he stared at the coffee table. Reagan waited nervously, not wanting to say anything that might make him madder than he was. She knew they needed to have this conversation, but damn if she wasn’t scared shitless.


	39. Chapter 39

“I was so fucking pissed, Reagan,” Michael said bitterly, still not looking at her. “After all we had been through, you telling me to get the fuck out, me coming back, and all that over and over again. It was too much. I didn’t fuck around with anyone at first, always thinking that you would come to your senses and call me back. When you didn’t I got more and more pissed. That night that it happened I went out with some mates and got shit-faced, completely pissed. Woke up the next morning with her, and a month or so later she was telling me she was pregnant.”

He turned to her, a frown on his face as he saw Reagan was crying softly. “What was I supposed to do, Reagan? I never knew if you were calling me back or if we were completely done. I thought we were done. Then when she said she was pregnant, what was I supposed to do? You know me. You know I would never walk away from my responsibility.”

Reagan sat there silently crying, all the heartache and tears, and brokenness flowing. They had been so stupid, but she had been more so. She could see it now. All of her bitterness with Kevin and Paul - all of that anger and hurt – she had poured it out on Michael, not even realizing it at the time. He had been nothing but good to her, doing the best he could with the hand he had been dealt. He had stuck by her side when even her mother had left in the beginning. She was so ashamed, so very ashamed of what she had done in her misery and hate.

“I wanted to punish you, Reagan,” Michael admitted softly, his voice filled with shame. “I wanted you to regret kicking me out. I thought I was a good boyfriend. Wasn’t I? I thought I did the right things, and tried to help you as much as I could, but it was never good enough. You were always pushing me away, always punishing me for things that were not my fault. When I came back and saw you that night at the bar – saw you with Mark – I was so fucking pissed off. I wanted to smash his face in with my bare hands.”

He leaned forward now, his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face. “I thought to myself, what the fuck does this guy have that I don’t have? Other than you, that is,” He laughed now, a bitter, hollow laugh that turned Reagan’s stomach.

“So when I was able to get you away from him, I thought to myself okay, Mikey, here’s your chance to fix this mess! But even with me telling you it wasn’t my kid, even after you admitted that you still loved me, it still got fucked up, didn’t it? It still wasn’t enough for you, was it? So you kicked me out that last time and I told myself I was fucking done with you, that I had wasted enough time with you, and you had fucked me over enough.”

Michael stood up and started pacing, running his hands through his hair in anger. It was sticking up now, the red spikes as angry as he was. Reagan continued to sit there and cry softly, not wanting to interrupt him. She deserved all of this, and she knew she needed to hear it – no matter how much it broke her heart in two. Right now she had no idea if Michael was coming back to stay with her, or if this was one giant "fuck you and farewell." She had no idea…

“So yeah, when I met Mandy on set and we hit it off, I went with it. I tried like fuck to make it work with her, hell at one point I even thought I was in love with her,” he admitted, staring up at the ceiling. Reagan was glad he wasn’t looking at her, for he would see how much that hurt her, his admission of possibly loving someone else. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She braced herself as Michael continued.

“We dated for a good 2 or 3 months, and we both agreed that our work broke us apart. For my part, if I am to be honest, though, it wasn’t work. It was still you. As gorgeous as that woman was, she wasn’t you. She was too tall, too thin, too dark, too everything. She wasn’t you, Ronnie.  She didn’t piss me off the way you did, she didn’t make me happy the way you did, and she damn sure didn’t love me the way you did – when you loved me, that is.” He ran his hands through his hair again and walked over to her fireplace, adjusting a glass snowman that she hadn’t yet put up from Christmas.

“She and I were still together when you texted me on New Year’s Eve. Not getting along, but still trying to make it work. When you texted me, and I wanted to run to you right then and there, I knew it was over between Mandy and me.” He turned back around and crossed his arms as he stared at her, the anger and anguish still very much present in his face. His jaw hardened as he saw Reagan was still crying quietly, trying to discreetly wipe at her tears.

“Right now, do you know what it is doing to me to watch you cry like that?” he asked her, his voice breaking as he did so. “All I want to do is go to you and wrap my arms around you, and make everything better, but I can’t do that, can I? I couldn’t make it better before, so how in the fuck can I make it better now? I can’t do this, Reagan, this thing between you and me. It’s too much. It hurt too much. I can’t work, I wasn’t eating, was drinking too much. It’s too much, Reagan, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”  He sat down on the coffee table and stared at her, his eyes glossy with his own unshed tears.

“I thought I was going to come back here and see that I was over you, that I didn’t care anymore, but I was wrong. God help me, but I still love you, Ronnie. I do. I am asking you, begging you even, to tell me if all that shit that happened before, if it’s going to happen again. Because if it is, please let me go. Let me be, because I can’t do this again, Ronnie. I can’t do…fuck!”

He leaned over and covered his face with his hands as he started crying. Reagan couldn't take it anymore and she got up and went to him, wrapping her arms around him as he cried. She had never seen him cry before, never seen him get this emotional and it was ripping her heart into pieces. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her stomach, his tears soaking her shirt. They stayed like that for some time, Reagan holding him to her as he cried. When he stopped and looked up at her, Reagan’s heart broke anew at his red-rimmed eyes, his beautiful lashes still wet with tears.

“Please tell me I am wrong, Reagan.” Reagan leaned down and kissed him, not knowing what else to do. She kissed him softly on the lips, overjoyed when he didn’t push her away. He let her cup his beautiful scruffy cheeks, let her kiss those beautiful cheeks and kiss his eyelids when he closed his eyes. She leaned back and he opened his eyes again, staring up at her in misery and maybe a little hope. “Reagan? Please say something.”

“I’m sorry, Michael. For everything. For the way I treated you, for pushing you away, for pulling you back and forth. I’m sorry. Everything you’ve said is the truth, and I deserved every bit of it. I was not in a good place mentally, and I blamed you. I couldn’t love you in the right way because I still didn’t love myself, Michael. I wanted to love you, to be what you wanted and to treat you the way you deserved, but I hated myself, and I took that out on you, and for that I am so sorry, Michael. So sorry,” she said, tears running down her cheeks again. “I know I don’t deserve it, but if you would give me another chance, I would try my hardest to not mess it up again. I know what I lost now. If you would give me a chance to prove that I have changed, I’ll show you, Michael. I am not that person anymore.” She rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs, trying to memorize every bit of him lest he leave. 

"I have been dead here without you, and I only realized that when I figured myself out, Michael. Even as I got better, I knew a part of me was missing, and it was you.” She sighed now, steeling herself for the question she needed to ask, hoping she got the answer she desperately wanted. “Would you give me another chance, Michael? I know I don’t deserve it but, would-”

She didn’t get to finish as Michael stood up, grabbed her face roughly, and kissed her, his lips bruising in their insistence.  Reagan opened to him, her hands tangling in his hair as she held onto him for balance. She slid her hands down and gripped his arms, as he pushed against her, causing her to lean back slightly. Michael pushed her back against the couch and they fell down together, him landing on top of her. She groaned into his mouth, overwhelmed with having his body pressed against hers once again. He never stopped for air, his tongue ravishing hers, their teeth clashing and breath shared. Michael pushed up with one arm and Reagan ran her hands up and down his chest, delighting in the feeling of the muscles there. She had missed him so much – his body, his touch, his gentleness and his hardness. He abruptly leaned back and looked at her, his eyes as glazed as hers were. Reagan traced his cheeks with her fingertips, lightly brushing across his beard as she stared at him. His breathing was ragged, but on his face there was wariness mixed in with desire, his confidence in her still not there.

“I love you, Michael,” she whispered softly, her mouth taut with regret. “I love you, and I am so sorry. For everything. Please forgive me?” He leaned down and kissed her again, and this time Reagan felt like something had shifted, like something had broken free finally. She kissed him back, whining a bit when his lips left hers, but groaning again when they found that spot on her neck that made her squirm. She moved against him restlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist in need as she involuntarily ground her core against him.

“Micheal…” she whined, her hands roaming over his back frantically.

“Hmmm?” he murmured against her neck, his lips kissing where his teeth had nipped.

“Make love to me?” she asked him, uncertainty and fear of rejection pushed aside by her desire. Michael leaned back and looked at her carefully.

“You sure?”

“More than anything. Please.”

“Bed. Now,” he ordered as he got up, pulling her up with him. They quickly walked into her bedroom, both stripping clothes as they went. Michael flung his shirt on the floor, his hands quickly returning to Reagan as she struggled to get her shirt off.

“Let me help, love,” he whispered huskily as he lifted her shirt up and over her head. He stood back and stared at her appreciatively, her breasts heaving as she stared back. “Take your pants off, Reagan.” Reagan’s breath caught at his tone, his command of her sending desire straight to her groin. He backed up and sat down on the bed and watched her. For whatever reason, Reagan felt like prey being watched by a predator. It was thrilling and frightening, all at the same time.

“Jeans. Now,” he ordered again, his voice smooth. Reagan complied, unzipping her jeans and sliding them off as quickly as she could. When she was done, she stood there before him, clad in only a bra and panties, hugging her sides self-consciously.

“Turn around,” he ordered and Reagan did so, wondering what was happening now. Fuck but he was killing her. “I want you to take your panties off, but do it slowly and bend over as you do so. I want to see you, Reagan.” Reagan started to look back at him, worrying her lip as she was unsure of herself. Michael flicked his hand at her, indicating that she needed to turn around.

“Off. Now,” he said and Reagan again complied, bending over as she did so. She dropped her panties down on the ground, her hands shaking as she did so.

“Spread your legs.”

“Michael, I-”

“Do it,” he ordered. His voice was thick and gruff, it’s timber only turning Reagan on even more. She spread her legs slightly, only to hear Michael "tsk" behind her. She spread them a little more, the cool air hitting her between her legs where she was so wet. “Bra off. Now.”

She slowly took her bra off, her fingers trembling as she did so. She fumbled with the clasp for a moment, getting frustrated until she felt Michael come up behind her and do it for her. He peeled the bra off of her arms, sliding it down and completely off. He dropped it on the floor and then reached around and cupped her breasts, his large hands completely covering her. She dropped her head back against him, her mouth parted as his fingers lightly played with her nipples.

“Do you know how long I have dreamed of this, love?” he murmured against her ear, his lips just barely touching her. He slid his hands down her body as he lowered himself behind her. He kissed along her spine, all the way down to her ass, and tenderly kissed each cheek as his hands kneaded her. “Bend over.”

“What? I-”

“Bend over and grab your ankles. Do it now,” he directed her, his hands splayed across her hips. Reagan did as he asked and bent over, grateful for being so flexible. She grabbed her ankles and felt her face go red, knowing she was completely exposed to him. Had she shaved enough? Did she smell? Would he-

“Oh god!” she cried out when his finger touched her there, rubbing the wetness up and down her slit. All coherent thought was gone, her mind completely shut down as it focused on his fingers at her core. He removed his hand from her and Reagan whined a complaint, yearning for his fingers to touch her again. She barely had a moment to think when he gripped her hips with both hands and licked her, his tongue washing over her in waves.  She was going to die. She could feel her world going black, the blood rushing to her head as she was bent over combined with the sensation of his mouth on her was too much. She started swaying, her hands only lightly gripping her ankles as she fought to remain conscious. Had Michael not been holding her she surely would have fallen over.

"Fuck! You taste so good, love," Michael murmured against her as he moved one hand back to her ass. He positioned his hand so his thumb was lightly circling her clit as his mouth continued to work it's magic, an occasional lick here or there, driving her insane. She tried to move against him but the position she was in made it impossible.

"Michael...please.." she panted, her eyes closed as she fought against the orgasm that was building. "Please can I..oh god!" she cried out when his thumb slipped inside her as his tongue continued working her. Just as soon as it was there it was gone, he pulled it out and licked her again, his broad tongue laving her over and over again. She was so tightly wound, her body humming with need and she was on the edge. If she could just move a little bit more...

Michael stood, again kissing her on the way up and Reagan sighed in relief, hoping that he was going to let her stand. He did, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her back up with him as he kissed her neck again. She was so weak, her body trembling against him in need. His hands roamed over her breasts again, tweaking her nipples a bit harder this time and Reagan moaned again, her hips moving against him causing him to groan. He turned her around and Reagan gasped. His eyes were so dark, and she could see her wetness on his beard, the proof of how aroused she was so plain to see. He leaned his forehead down to hers and pushed her back towards the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. When she felt the bed hit the back of her knees she fell back on it, hoping that Michael would join her, but he slid down between her legs and pushed them apart roughly. Reagan whimpered when his fingers found her core, and she cried out when he shoved two fingers in, filling her so quickly she couldn't catch her breath. He leaned down and took her clit between his lips, sucking on her lightly as he pumped his fingers in and out, crooking them at the right moment and angle to hit her in that fucking spot. She felt the pressure rising, the darkness that started clouding her vision as she was so close. Michael nipped at her clit, and pressed on the inside of her wall, his fingers applying just enough pressure to release her.

"Oh god!" she cried, her body gushing as she came. It came hard and fast, her orgasm washing over her in waves that caused her body to spasm, her knees trembling.  She grabbed at the sheets, her hands balling and twisting as she arched up off the bed, but Michael still kept going, his tongue and fingers relentless in his pursuit of every last drop. Reagan literally thought she was going to die, so intense was this orgasm. It was unlike any she'd ever had and it kept going, the tremors running through her body long after Michael had removed his fingers and his tongue. She was vaguely aware of him ripping off his jeans and crawling over her, helping her scoot back on the bed so that they had more room. Her legs were flopped out to the side, too weak to do anything else. Michael pushed her hair off her sweaty brow and kissed her, and she could taste herself on him, the scent of her body still on his beard.

"You alright, sweetheart?" he said softly, his smile melting her again and she blinked up at him as she tried to focus.

"It's just been a while for me, Michael," Regan mumbled, her eyes closing again as an incredible tiredness took over. The combination of that mind-blowing orgasm, Michael being in bed with her, and them not fighting was too much for her brain to handle. The day had just been too stressful and her body succumbed to the exhaustion that was calling her name.

"Reagan?" Michael said, staring at her in disbelief as her mouth went slack. She'd fallen asleep.  Fuck but she'd actually gone and fallen asleep. Although he had a raging hard-on, he couldn't help but smile down at her. She was so beautiful right now, her cheeks flushed and lips swollen from his kisses, and he couldn't be mad at her. He nuzzled her gently, hoping that just maybe she would wake up, but all she did was turn her head and let out a deep breath. He resigned himself, knowing it was of no use, and rolled off of her and onto his back. He was so hard it was fucking painful, but he'd be damned if he would waste it jerking off.  He sat up and covered Reagan with the sheets before laying down beside her. He was too damn hot to get under the sheets, and with his body the way it was, even the sheet was too much pressure right now.

He'd just have to wait til she woke up. Or til he woke her up. Whichever came first.


	40. Chapter 40

Reagan woke up some time later and stretched, her body still feeling incredibly relaxed from earlier. As the memories came flooding back, she sat up and frantically looked around for Michael, but he was not next to her. She frowned and felt the spot next to her, finding it cold. He must have been gone for a while, she thought sadly. Her heart beating fast, she slid off the bed and wrapped the sheet around her, not bothering to get dressed. Oh god! What if he had left?? She remembered falling asleep on him and she groaned in dismay. Fuck! She tripped over the sheet as she stumbled out into the hallway and made her way into the living room, sighing in relief as she saw Michael asleep on the couch. She dropped down into the over-sized loveseat, her breathing slowly returning to normal as she stared as his sleeping form.She curled up, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapped the sheet around her tightly as she watched him.

He was covered with a sheet and she could see that he had put his sweats back on, but he was still shirtless, his arms folded across his chest as he slept. He was so damn gorgeous, his full lashes resting against his cheekbones and his lips relaxed. Occasionally his brows would draw together in sleep, and Reagan wondered what he was dreaming about as they finally relaxed, his features smoothing out once again. He had definitely put on weight and she could see it now, his body much more full and muscular than before. While he was definitely not heavy, he was much more solid now, and she itched to touch him, to feel his skin under her hands. She bit her lip in indecision as she stared at him, wondering if she should do what she wanted to do. She’d never woken him up like that in all their time together and she worried about how he would react, especially now when he was so wary. _Take a chance, Reagan_ , her mind argued with her. _Just take a damn chance and jump on him!_ Or not. Don’t jump on him, she argued with herself as she got off the loveseat and slowly crept towards him, wincing as she stepped on a magazine that had fallen off the coffee table, the pages rustling in the too-quiet room. God why was everything so damn loud right now?!

She finally made it to the couch and knelt down next to him, sitting there, hesitating on what to do. Just fucking do it, her mind argued with her! She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she dropped the sheet and moved over Michael, bracing one hand on the back of the couch. Where the fuck did she put her hands?? She looked down at him in trepidation. He was so damn big, and so damn overwhelming, and she had no idea what to touch or what not to touch. She watched as his brows drew together again, and she leaned down without thinking and kissed his brow, her lips moving gently against his forehead. He jerked a bit as her hair brushed his face, but he did not wake up, his breathing still even. Growing bolder, Reagan pulled her hair to the side and kissed his jaw, her lips gentle still. Oh that fucking beard was going to be the death of her, the thickness and coarseness driving her insane!

There was something about her being completely nude, the cold air shocking her body and causing her to break out in goosebumps as she moved over Michael. She leaned back and stared at him, searching his face for any signs of movements but she found none – he still appeared to be fast asleep. She removed her hand from the back of the couch and tentatively ran her fingers over his chest, stilling as he jerked yet again. He brushed at his chest, scratching at the sparse hair there and shifted again. Reagan held her breath, watching and waiting to see if he woke. When he didn’t, she let out another deep breath and began again, lightly trailing her fingers over his chest and around his nipples. She bit her lip as she circled him softly, watching as the tiny buds became instantly hard under her feathery touch. She glanced back up at him but his eyes were still closed, his breathing still that of what she assumed was a sleeping man.

Summoning everything ounce of courage, she leaned over and touched just the tip of her tongue to his chest, swirling it around the edge of his nipples, but not touching there just yet. She couldn’t get enough of his smell, the intoxicating scent of Michael. His skin was slightly salty, a remnant of their earlier lovemaking, and she eagerly lapped at him as she moved closer to his nipple. Not able to control herself any longer, she ran her tongue over the tight,little nub before fully taking it between her teeth and sucking on it, her eyes closed in ecstasy as she tasted his body. So wrapped up was she in her own pleasure with his body, she did not immediately realize that Michael had lifted his hand and fisted it in her hair, holding her tight to him as she continued suckling on him, her teeth nipping and her tongue soothing.

“Fuck, Reagan!” he moaned, his body arching and stretching underneath her. Reagan opened her eyes and pulled back, her cheeks heating  in shame as she looked up and caught him staring down at her from lust-heavy eyes. He pulled her back to him, his hand tight in her hair.

“Please don’t stop, love,” he rasped, his body shifting and moving underneath her. Emboldened, Reagan leaned down again and began anew, this time with the other nipple. She flattened her palm against him and suckled, the sounds of her mouth on him and his ragged breathing filling the room. Michael’s groans and heavy breathing spurred her on, her hands and mouth becoming more eager as they explored his body. Michael pulled at her, gripping her arms and pulling her on top of him as he kicked off the sheet he was under. Reagan flattened herself against him as she straddled him, her core aching as she rubbed against him. She was so damn wet and she could feel it soaking through his sweats, the friction of the fabric driving her insane. Reagan leaned down once again, but this time pressed her breasts against his chest as she straddled him, her lips leaving wet kisses along the column of his neck and along his collarbone. Michael kept pushing at her thighs, grinding her against him as he moved restlessly underneath her.  Reagan took control again, sliding her hand down his waist and to the waistband of his sweats. She pushed at them, pushing them down just enough to release his hard length. She slid backwards, her body searching for him and finding him as she pushed at him. She sighed as he entered her, his hard length filling her so full. She sat up and leaned back, taking him in completely and squeezing him with her thighs, her eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, his hands reaching up to palm her breasts, his rough fingers pulling at her, palms flattening her. Reagan continued to lean back and clutched at his thighs, her fingernails digging in deep as she clung to him, the angle almost too much. She lifted off him as much as her legs would allow, her thighs trembling with the effort, and then slammed back down on him. He was so thick inside her, so full, and she had forgotten what it felt like, the sensation of him slamming into her and sliding out. The feeling of his fingers at her clit, working her up into a frenzy as she moved against him frantically. She leaned forward and rolled her hips against him hard, needing that friction as she was so close, so very close. She whimpered in need, possibly calling out Michael’s name but neither could be sure, both so lost in sensation as they fought for their release.

“Reagan…baby…I…fuck!” Michael growled, unable to take it any longer, his body tensing as he came hot and hard inside her. His hands were almost bruisingly painful at her hips as he held her to him tightly, spilling himself in her as he thrust into her. The feeling of him spurting inside her so hot pushed Reagan over the edge, her body pulling at him, trying to glean every last drop as he slammed into her. She collapsed on his chest, her body still moving as she rode the waves of her orgasm, her thighs trembling and core clenching at him still. She pushed her face into his neck, inhaling deeply as she tried to draw air into her painfully constricted lungs, made worse by Michael’s tight grip on her. A few more tremors and she relaxed completely, sucking in a great, deep breath, her body spent as was Michael’s, and she vaguely felt him running his hands along her back slowly. She jerked at the movement, her skin so incredibly sensitive right now.

“Thank you,” Michael murmured against the top of her head as he continued stroking her back and shoulders. Reagan drew her hands up around her and held them close to her chest as she lay on him, exhaustion threatening to pull her under once again.

“Welcome.” She nuzzled his chest lightly, the chest hairs tickling her lips as she did so. She yawned loudly, unable to control it, and Michael chuckled underneath her.

“You’re out of shape, love,” he teased, cupping her ass and pulling her closer to him.

“I know,” she replied, yawning again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” He continued rubbing her shoulders, only stopping when he felt her shiver against him. “Want me to take you to bed?”

Reagan shrugged against him, content where she was, although she was getting cold, the air cooling her skin. Michael made the decision for them, sitting up and taking her with him. He cradled her in his arms as he carried her to the bedroom, her cheek pressed against his chest. He laid her gently on the bed and covered her, making sure she was tucked in before he went to the restroom. When he returned, he leaned down and kissed her forehead gently and began to move away, but Reagan reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Please don’t leave again, Michael,” she whispered up at him timidly. “Please stay with me?”

Michael stared down at her ambivalently, his thoughts and emotions warring with him. He had never planned on sleeping with her this soon, knowing that it would catapult him right back here. They had talked about their problems but had they solved them? It had all been too much, and he was afraid of getting sucked in too quickly and not having his bearings about him. He did not want to repeat what they had already gone through. His heart couldn’t take it, it really could not.

“I’m sorry, Michael. Please give me a chance.”

Michael sighed deeply and dropped down on the bed, sliding under the sheets and holding his arm out for her to scoot over. Reagan laid her head on his chest, her heart finally slowing it’s frantic pace after thinking he was going to leave her alone again. She hugged him tightly, her fingers tucked underneath his side, gripping fiercely as if she were going to lose him. Michael lay perfectly still, his loose arm draped over his eyes and neither spoke, the silence settling over them like a heavy fog. They were so close, but it felt like they were miles apart, even after having made love a few moments ago.

It was so quiet in the room, and Reagan tried desperately to hold back her tears as anguish washed over her. Tears would lead to sniffles, and sniffles she could not keep quiet. She was tired of crying and didn’t want to put that on Michael again. She continued blinking, torn between reaching up and wiping at her face or continuing to hold him tight. She stilled when she felt Michael’s hand come up to her face and hold her to him, his thumb rubbing against her cheek gently.

“Please don’t cry, Ronnie,” he begged, and Reagan shook, a sob escaping as she could no longer hold it in. Michael wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his chest, her whole body lying on him in a tight, little ball as she wept. He said nothing more, simply stroking her hair as he tried to soothe her, when he himself was just as distraught.

They were like two puzzle pieces that had once gone together, but somehow no longer fit. The thing that they once had was broken, repeatedly trampled on over and over again by both of them, and Michael had no way of knowing if they could ever figure out how to fit back together again. He still loved her, and right here was where he wanted to be –that he was sure of. That he was certain of with his whole heart. Was it enough? He had no fucking idea. It wasn’t enough before, so why would it be enough now?

His doubts crowded his mind, memories of the fighting and screaming, the slamming doors, things shattering against the walls in anger - all came flooding back and he grimaced again. The empty threats and the threats that were carried out, the drinking and the partying, nights spent in someone else’s arms. Fuck. How did they start over from here? Could they start over, or would the past constantly interfere with the present?

He lay there as long as he could, gritting his teeth in tense aggravation. He knew if he got up now, Reagan would surely see it as him leaving her again, but he couldn’t lay there any longer. His nerves were shot, his patience frayed, and his body was so wound up with his thoughts that he had to escape. He slowly shifted her off his chest and laid her on the bed gently, and got up. He didn’t look at her nor did he say a word as he left the room, shutting the door behind him quietly.

He left her.

He left her again.

Reagan lay parlalyzed in shock, biting her fist to keep the sounds muffled as she wept, her despair overtaking her. She sat up and clutched the blanket to her chest, tears springing anew as she heard a door shut. Was he leaving her? She stared at the light from under the door, looking for any sign that he was still there. When she found none and the house had gone quiet again, she lay back down. Her eyes were raw and dry from crying, that gritty feeling from wiping your eyes too much. She sighed, a deep shaky, breath of resignation and rolled over, clutching a pillow to her chest tightly. He’d left her again, and this time she didn’t have the strength to go after him.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for Reagan and Michael :-) There will be one more, kind of a epilogue, but we'll see. Anywho - thanks for coming along for the insane ride that was haha!
> 
> I've included their song at the end. This song helped me tremendously when writing and yes it's Pearl Jam of course :-) Hope you guys love it as much as I do!
> 
> Peace and love!

Saturday morning…

Reagan rolled out of bed wearily, her eyes dry and gritty from crying. She had barely slept last night, her heart broken and her mind running away with a myriad of horrible possibilities. She had no idea if Michael was still here, or where he was if he had actually left. If he had left she had no idea if he was coming back. Hell, she didn’t even know which hotel he’d reserved, never having talked about that on the phone. The door to her bedroom was still closed and she didn’t have her cellphone as she had left it in the kitchen last night. She sat up and waited a moment, trying to clear her head somewhat. The clock on the bedside table told her it was well after 9am, but she felt like it was still late at night, the rain, and the clouds, and the lack of sleep making it feel much earlier – or later – however you looked at it. What she wanted to do was go back to bed and not get up til Monday. That’s what she wanted to do.

She reluctantly walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, blasting it on as hot as it would go. She sat on edge of the shower as she waited for the steam to fill the room, and when it finally did she stepped inside, pulling the curtain closed. She stood there for some time, just letting the water roll down her back in an attempt to ease the weariness that had fallen over her. This was more like a damn depression than anything! How had things been so good for a few moments, and then immediately gone back to shit?

It was almost aggravating, she thought – _no it was aggravating_ – the way Michael was acting like this was all her fault, as she began to process what all had happened. Fuck but he was the one who’d actually _slept_ with someone else – not her! Reagan opened her eyes and grabbed the body wash, angrily squirting some out and rubbing it on her shower poof. She was getting more and more pissed by the moment as she thought back to last night’s conversations with Michael.

Yes, she could absolutely understand where he was coming from, and yes, she could understand why he would be hesitant to get back in a relationship with her, but fuck! Didn’t she have just as much cause to be wary of him? Her stomach still turned when she thought about him screwing some other girl. Who’s to say he wouldn’t resort to that the next time they got in a fight?

She scrubbed at her armpits in anger, moving across her body in haste. He was a goddamned bastard. That’s what he was. Blaming all of this on her, taking no responsibility for his actions other than to say they were broken up. As if that excused things! He knew all of her problems before they got involved. He knew them and he still pursued her! Reagan finished washing her body and slapped the shower faucet to turn off the water, relaxation a faint memory. She was highly pissed now. He had basically come here, lectured her, made her feel like shit, fucked her, and then left. All in a matter of a few hours.

Reagan dried off as much as possible and wrapped the towel around her as she stalked back out to her bedroom. She yanked a pair of sweats out of her drawer, along with panties, bra, and a t-shirt, and threw them on. She walked back into the bathroom and swiped on some deodorant before pulling her hair up into a messy bun. She didn’t give a fuck what she looked like today. She brushed her teeth quickly and swished the mouthwash around in her mouth as she stared at her reflection, her cheeks red as her anger rose higher. Damn bastard.

She spit the mouthwash out, rinsed out the sink, and headed out into the living room. She yanked her door open, not bothering to close it as she walked purposefully into the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon hit her, the delicious aromas filling up her nostrils and causing her stomach to come alive. As she came around the corner, she saw Michael standing at the stove, wearing nothing but jeans as he stirred what looked like scrambled eggs. Reagan opened and closed her mouth a few times and then angrily crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at him.

“Ahem!” she muttered quite loudly, her mouth pursed. Michael turned around and grinned at her, all teeth on display and for a moment Reagan wavered. Just for a moment, but then her resolve was back. She was still pissed at this motherfucker standing in her kitchen.

“Morning, love,” Michael smiled, laying the spatula down as he walked towards her. Reagan held out her hand to halt him and shook her head. Michael stopped and frowned at her, one eyebrow cocked.

“Really? You leave me not once, but twice and you expect to cook eggs and bacon and everything’s solved?” Reagan hissed.

“Reagan-”

“Don’t _Reagan_ me! Fuck, Michael! You came here, tore me down to pieces -when you were the one who fucked around, not me,” she jabbed at her chest in anger before pointing at him, “you did that!”

She was so angry she was shaking, her lips twitching and fists clenching. She walked over to the sink and snatched a glass down from the cabinet and filled it with water, swallowing half of it down as she tried to calm herself down. She reached for the bottle of Tylenol and shakily emptied two into her hands and then tossed them in her mouth, swallowing them down with another gulp of water. She set the glass down and stood over the sink, staring out into the dreary view. Rain and sleet – once again. Miserable, just like her mood. Michael said nothing as he turned off the stove and moved the skillet off to the side and away from the heat.

“Why did you come here?” She stood with her hands on the side as she continued to stare out into the darkness. It could almost pass for early evening, as dark as it was. She shook her head as she continued. "I mean seriously. What was the point?”

She turned around to stare at him, holding up her hand once again to stop him when he opened his mouth to talk.

“We talked, I apologized, you apologized – kind of – and we had sex. Then you left me, not once, but twice.” Anger coursed through her veins white-hot once again. If anyone should be pissed here it was her.

“Reagan-” he tried again, only to be shushed once more with a finger in his face.

“Just shut up!” she yelled, not bothering to stop as Michael sighed deeply and stood up.

“Here we fucking go again,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing at the back of his neck.  “Are we going to do this again? Because if we are, I can leave, Reagan. I will walk right out that fucking door.” He pointed towards the front door.

“Then leave. It’s what you’re good at,” she whispered brokenly, tears threatening to fall again.

“And you push me out. That’s what you’re good at,” he shot back, his mouth hard in his own anger.

“Maybe you should just go back to Mandy, then.” Her voice caught on the woman’s name, and Reagan felt like a knife was stabbing her deep in her heart, so intense was the pain as she threw down that gauntlet.

“Maybe I will,” he challenged her and Reagan gasped, the wind knocked right out of her at his admission.

“Please leave.” She was defeated, tears blinding her as she walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, not knowing where she was going. All she knew was she needed to get away from him as fast as possible. She headed back towards the bedroom, the only real place to go in her tiny apartment, and slammed the door behind her. She stumbled into the bathroom and turned the shower back on for noise, and scooted back to the wall and slid down it. She sat down, her knees drawn up to her chest as she cried once again, her sobs just barely muffled by the shower.

The door opened and Michael walked in. He looked around for a moment before he spotted her, and then walked softly over to her. He silently sat down next her, his back also against the wall and reached for her hand. Reagan didn’t fight back - she let him hold her hand as she continued to cry. She was too tired to fight. She had nothing left in her.

“I’m sorry I left you last night, love,” he began, opening his hand so that he could intertwine his fingers with hers. He covered their joined hands with his other hand and pulled them up to his chest and held them there.

“Why…did…you…leave?” Reagan hiccupped out, her breath hitching with her tears.

“Because I am a coward,” he admitted. “Because I didn’t want to move too fast. Because I didn’t want this to happen, didn’t want us to go back to this shit. I thought if I distanced myself – took things slowly –it’d be better. For both of us.”

Reagan sniffled and wiped at her face with her free hand. Michael reached over and pulled a towel off the nearby rack and handed it to her before leaning his head back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling.

"But then I couldn't help it and we made love, and everything got confusing and I didn't know what to do," he continued.

“Believe me when I say that there is nowhere else I’d rather be, Reagan. Not with her, not at work, not anywhere – this is where I want to be.” He squeezed her hand tightly and brought it up to his lips for a soft kiss. “You’re the one that I want to be with, and that’s the god’s honest truth.”

“Then why would say that you would go back with her?” Reagan sat up a little straighter and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Because I’m a jackass and I say stupid shit.”

“You are a jackass,” Reagan agreed and Michael chuckled as he bumped her with his shoulder. Reagan pushed back gently and wrapped her free hand around his bicep, hugging him closer to her. His skin was sticky, sweat running down his arms. The bathroom was slowly filling up with steam again and Reagan could feel the sweat beading along her chest and back. She silently released his hand and stood up and walked over and turned the shower off. Michael had stood as well, twisting from side to side as he tried to work the kinks out of his back.

“Want to try this again? In the living room maybe?” he offered, holding out his hand to her. Reagan nodded and placed her hand in his and followed him out of the bathroom and back over to the couch. Michael sat first and pulled her down into his lap, adjusting her so that she was wrapped around him. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Want me to get you a plate? The eggs are probably cold now, though,” he said, his lips against her forehead. Reagan shook her head, not wanting to leave this spot. Ever. She fiddled with the hairs on his chest, running her fingers through and around, twisting and pulling lightly.

“We have to start over, Ronnie.” Michael’s voice was resolute, even and straight-forward. “We can’t keep doing this. If we can’t let all that bullshit go, it’ll never work.”

“You hurt me, Michael.”

“And you hurt me, Ronnie.” Reagan didn’t reply as she continued fiddling with his chest hair, her fingers tracing patterns in the freckles between his pectoral muscles. “Do you love me, Ronnie?”

“Yes.”

Michael shifted her on his lap, pulling her back so that he could stare at her. His blue eyes were stormy and intense, the blue almost a steely grey as he searched her face for answers. “Do you love me enough to let all this go?”

“I want to, Michael.” Reagan closed her eyes in agony as images flooded her brain again. “It’s just that every time I think of you and her…I get sick to my stomach. I don’t know how to shut it off, Michael. I don’t.”

“It’s going to take time, love. I know you’ll be pissed at me sometimes, and I can deal with that.” He grinned at her, a teasing grin as he winked at her. “I hope.”

“I thought I had done so much work and you came back and it all went down the drain,” she admitted, biting her lower lip as she stared at his neck rather than meet his eyes.

“Don’t leave me again, please?” she asked as she looked back up at his eyes.

“Don’t push me away and I’ll have no reason to leave, sweetheart,” Michael admonished her gently, the grin turning into a small smile. “I love you, Ronnie. More than anything and I can’t stand to see you hurting. If I am the cause of that pain, then I want no part of it. All I want to do is make you happy, and show you that I love you, but you have to let me in, love.”

Reagan bit harder at her lip, her emotions threatening to overtake her once more. She blinked rapidly and looked away, trying to get control of herself. She tried to focus on a picture on the wall as her vision got blurry with tears that wanted to fall yet again.

“I am not Kevin, and I am not Paul, and I am not anyone else that you’ve ever been with, love.” Michael cupped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. “I won’t hurt you the way they did and you know that. Let me love you, baby.” He leaned forward and kissed one cheek, then her nose, and then the other cheek. Reagan gripped his hands as he held her cheeks, her breath catching when he finally pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her softly, his warm lips pressed to hers as he nipped at her lower lip.

“I love you, Ronnie.” He nipped at her lip again and she sighed, feeling like the weight of the world was falling off her shoulders as she relaxed into him.

“Quit trying to control everything and just let it happen, sweetheart.” He kissed along her jaw and towards her ear and Reagan squirmed on his lap, getting restless as her desire grew. “You have to trust me, and I have to trust you.” He pulled her earlobe in between his lips and sucked on it gently, causing Reagan to shiver. She still had her eyes closed when he pulled back, cupping her cheeks once again as he stared at her.

“Give us a chance, right?” he murmured, nuzzling her nose with his softly. “We start over from scratch, and we work through it together – the good and the bad, right?”

“What if I get mad at you?” Reagan asked hesitantly, that fear still clinging to her for dear life. Michael kissed the tip of her nose and smiled at her.

“You will. And I’ll get mad at you.” He shrugged dismissively. “So what? We’ll get over it.”

"What if I get jealous?” She gripped his hands tightly, not wanting to lose contact as he rubbed her cheeks lightly with his thumbs.

“I’ll try not to give you a reason to get jealous, and you do the same,” he said softly, and Reagan sighed.

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you, jerk?” Reagan complained. Michael laughed, a deep laugh that rumbled through his chest and against her on his lap, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling at him.

“Someone’s got to be the grownup here, sweetheart,” he teased as he kissed her once again, trying to kiss away her frown that had just appeared at his statement. He sobered as he smoothed out the crease between her brows gently with his fingertip.

“I’m only joking, love. I know it’s going to be tough, and we’re going to struggle, but it’ll work. I can’t imagine all the shit you’ve been through, and how that paints the world for you. I know you’ll still struggle, and you’ll want to push me away, but this time I won’t let you.” He hoisted her up against his chest and stood up, cradling her as he carried her back to the bedroom and laid her down gently on the bed. As he settled against her, he propped himself up over her, his forearms at her temples as he stared down at her. Reagan ran her fingers up his sides, feeling the smooth skin over all that muscle.

“From the day I saw you in the airport, I knew there was something about you, Reagan.” He kissed her again softly before leaning back. “You piss me off more than any woman I’ve ever known, and then in the same damn breath you make me want you like no other. You make me laugh, you’ve made me cry,” he cocked an eyebrow at this, “and you’ve made me realize what I want in life. It’s you, baby. I want it all - all the bad and all the good, and all your fucked up past. I want to be your future, the one that wipes out all the bad shit and replaces all those bad memories with good.” He ran the back of his hand along her cheek, his knuckles just grazing her skin as he stared down at her.

Reagan felt her throat constrict, a lump there as an emotion swept over her that she’d never felt before. It was acceptance. He accepted her for who she was and who she had been and who she would be. Michael knew all of it – all the good, the bad, and the in-between, and here he was telling her he wanted it all. Even after all their fights, all the screaming and threats and making up and breaking up, he was back and he wanted her and he wanted them. All the times she had pushed him away, trying to get him to prove his love for her, and all the times he had come back. None of it mattered because he still loved her despite it all. It seemed too good to be true.

“But what if-” Michael kissed her hard, silencing her words before they escaped.

“Quit over-thinking things, love.” He pushed her legs apart and settled back between them, and Reagan was immediately distracted from whatever she had been thinking about before. He grinned down at her as she narrowed her eyes up at him.

“Are you trying to distract me, Fassbender?” she asked him, one delicate eyebrow arched.

“I’m definitely trying.” He pressed against her, and Reagan felt just how much he was trying, her breath catching as he pressed against her core. “Is it working?”

“You need to try harder,” she murmured against his neck as she pulled him to her. He grinned and kissed her loudly on her neck, causing her to squirm as his beard tickled her.

“You remember what happened last time you told me to try harder?” His voice was husky now and Reagan blushed as she thought back to that first time they had made love, her cheeks heating in embarrassment at how she had tricked him.

“I tricked you into making love to me?” she offered up in a small voice and Michael laughed again.

“That you did, sweetheart,” he agreed as he pulled her shirt collar down and kissed along her collarbone, causing her to wriggle underneath him. He had ignited that fire in her, that dull ache between her legs yearning for his touch.

“What were you thinking then, Michael?” Reagan murmured, trying to keep her thoughts clear as his mouth moved against her body. Fuck but it was hard!

“How perfect you felt, and how much I wanted to make it something you would always remember.” He slid down her body, lifting her shirt up as he did so. Reagan trembled as his lips found her navel, his tongue swirling in and around like warm liquid against her belly.

“I never wanted you to forget me.” He nipped at her sides, followed by his tongue over the same spot, soothing the areas where he’d left a mark with kisses.

“The fact that I was your first.” He moved back up her body and pulled her shirt along with him, lifting her and helping her slide out of it. He settled back on her, his chest pressed against her bra-clad breasts.

“And now I want to be your last,” he murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. He leaned back up and looked down at her, his expression full of love and adoration.

“I love you, Reagan. I know we’ll fight, and I know we’ll argue, but I don’t ever want to break up with you again. You belong with me, and I belong with you, understand?” She nodded up at him, running her hands up his back and playing with the curls at his neck.

“So just know that next time you kick me out, I am only going as far as the guest room,” he teased, but Reagan could hear the seriousness in his voice and again her heart clenched with emotion. 

“Please don’t do that again, Reagan. Don’t push me away. Let me help you. Even if you need to slap the shit out of me to feel better, do so. Don’t run away from me and don’t push me out, okay?” He reached down and grabbed her hand and held it to his chest, to the area over his heart as he stared at her intensely. She could feel his heart beating fast against her hand.

“You feel that?” Reagan nodded up at him once more, words escaping her yet again. “As sure as my heart is beating right now, I love you, Reagan. All of the bad stuff and all of the good stuff – I love it all. And as long as it takes for me to prove that to you, to get you to believe me, that’s what I’ll do.” He pulled her hand up and kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.” He dropped her hand back to her side and nuzzled her nose again softly.

“Say something, love…” He kissed the corner of her mouth again and Reagan grinned against him, her hands tangling in the curls as she scratched her nails against his scalp. Michael moaned in appreciation and Reagan’s grin got bigger.

“Something,” she teased and Michael bit at her neck a little harder in mock punishment for her sarcasm. She yelped as she tried to push his head away from her.

“Don’t leave a mark! I have to work!” Michael tenderly kissed the spot where he had bitten her and leaned back, smiling down at the dark, red spot right where her collarbone met her neck.

“Too late, little brat. You’re marked for life.” Reagan leaned up and kissed his neck before delicately biting him with her teeth, leaving a similar mark on his skin. She also kissed the spot where the mark was before leaning back against the pillows and smiling up at him.

“You are as well.” She touched the spot with her fingertip as she smiled shyly up at him. He leaned down and kissed her again, pulling at her lower lip again.

"You can mark me up all you want, sweetheart," his voice warm against her neck as he left wet, open-mouthed kisses there. "I've got nothing but time."

Reagan sighed, closing her eyes as Michael continued moving over her body, his lips and hands telling her just how much he loved her. They'd finally made it back to each other. After all the wasted years, all the stupid fights and arguments, and all the hurt they'd inflicted on each other, they'd made it back to each other. They'd definitely taken the long road to their happily-ever-after, but Reagan wouldn't change a thing about it. She was right where she was supposed to be.

 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nigF1ulBCQE>

 


	42. Epilogue...

**Oscars 2014**

_“And the winner is….”_

Reagan held her breath in anticipation, her knees shaking in this damn expensive dress she was wearing. She could hardly move, the fabric so tight across her waist, but it did nothing to stop the nervous shaking in her limbs. She gripped Michael’s arm tightly, knowing she was probably more stressed out than he was. He squeezed her thigh in return. Could this lady take any longer opening the damn envelope??

“Relax, baby.” He whispered in her ear, and Reagan stared at him in amazement, wondering how he was so calm at a moment like this.

_“Michael Fassbender for 12 Years a Slave!”_

Reagan screamed, immediately slapping her hands over her mouth to drown out the sound but it was a non-issue, the whole theater erupting in applause for Michael. He stood up and pulled her to her feet, enveloping her in a huge hug and giving her an even bigger kiss. Reagan released him to Steve, who soundly kissed Michael on both cheeks and hugged him. Reagan hugged Lupita and then she hugged Steve and then she hugged someone else - she had no idea who the fuck they were - but it was a hug so whatever. Michael kissed her once more before making his way up on the stage, adjusting his suit as he did so. Reagan sat back down and wiped at her eyes, not wanting to ruin the beautiful makeup job that she’d received earlier. She smiled at some more well-wishers as they patted her on the back, but her attention was fixed firmly on Michael. She was so damn proud of him she could burst!

He took the award from Anne and kissed her on the cheek before getting wrapped up in another hug by Benedict, who also kissed him on the cheek. Michael wagged a finger at him playfully and Ben laughed as Michael stepped before the podium. He cleared his throat and Reagan knew that he was very emotional, his mouth tight against his teeth as he tried to control his emotions.

“Well…right… I don’t even know what to say!” Michael chuckled sheepishly and the crowd erupted in laughter and applause. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to receive an award like this, how much of an honor it is to have worked on a film like this. Steve, Brad, Chiwetel, Lupita and anyone else I’ve forgotten, thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me to be a part of something so profoundly wonderful and moving. One of the toughest– if not the toughest –movies I’ve ever done, but this is by far the one of the ones I  found to be most rewarding. Thank you to all of you. Especially you Steve. Wouldn’t be here without you, and I love you, man.” He nodded down at the cast, tipping his head in admiration of them all and Steve waved up at him. He cleared his throat again, and Reagan let out a happy sob, smiling at him as he looked for her, squinting against the lights and found her. His smile was wobbly and Reagan knew he was on the verge of tears. She mouthed “I love you” to him and he winked back before he adjusted his tie around his neck again.

“How much time do I have?” he asked no one in particular, earning another round of laughter and applause. Ben held up his hands indicating he had a few minutes and Michael gave the thumbs up sign to him, still grinning. “Right. Well I want to do something different here, if you all would bear with me?” Michael asked the crowd and was again met with applause. He nodded and clapped a little himself before he began talking.

“You see, I swore to myself whether I won or lose, I was not going to leave out of here without introducing you all to my beautiful girlfriend.” He pointed down at Reagan and she gasped, slouching down low in her seat in embarrassment as Steve patted her on the back again. What the hell was he doing??

“Everyone see her down there?” Damn him, but she was on the gigantic screen, her red cheeks visible to the world! “That is Reagan. She’s the smartest, bravest woman I know, and somehow she’s managed to tame me.” The theater filled with applause again and laughter, all the while Reagan felt like she wanted to crawl under the seat and escape. Michael continued to Reagan’s horror.

“So, what I would like to do is ask her to come up here on stage, if that’s okay?” He turned to Ben, who nodded in agreement and smiled. “Reagan – babe – come up, please.” Reagan shook her head in embarrassment, holding her cheeks to try to cool them down. She couldn’t even walk in this damn dress! How the fuck would she make it up the stairs?? She felt hands at her shoulders, and arms lifting her, and she turned to see Steve, smiling as he held her by her upper arms. Lupita was smiling at her, urging her to go.

“Go on up, Reagan,” he said gently and Reagan nodded, unable to speak. Ben greeted her at the bottom of the steps and helped her walk up to Michael, her ears filled with the sounds of the non-stop applause. When she reached Michael, she took his outstretched hand and stared pointedly at him. If looks could kill!!! He knew this and he winked at her, wearing a damn cheeky smile that she wanted to slap off of him, but she’d save that for later.

“So I know I am running out of time, so I’ll get right down to it. Ben?” Michael asked, peering around to Ben who was standing behind Reagan. Michael handed his statue to Ben, and Ben fished something out of his pocket and handed it to Michael, who abruptly dropped down on one knee. Reagan gasped, her hands flying to her mouth again as she stared down at him in shock.

What. The. Fuck. Was. He. Doing???

“Reagan, I know that we’ve had our ups and downs, and I know that we’ll have some more in the future, but there’s no one I’d rather celebrate the good times with, and no one I’d rather survive the bad times with. Please say you’ll marry me, love.” He opened the box and held it out to her, the lights glittering off the beautiful diamond solitaire inside. She stared down at the ring, and then back up at him, his expression hopeful as he smiled at her. “Reagan? Baby?”

Reagan nodded in agreement, not able to form words as she started crying. Michael jumped up and hugged her tightly, lifting her up off the ground and spinning her around.

“She said yes in case you were all wondering!” Ben spoke into the microphone on the podium, and the applause got louder. “Sorry ladies, but Fassy is off the market!” Laughter and hoots and claps filled the theater again, but Reagan and Michael were oblivious, so wrapped up in each other they were.

“I love you, Ronnie,” he whispered in her ear as she hugged her tightly. He pulled the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger, smiling at her as he did so. Reagan wiped at her eyes, trying to focus enough to look at the ring, but she didn’t care what it looked like. He could have wrapped a piece of string around her finger and she would have said yes. Just then Ben came up to them and smiled at them apologetically.

“They’re calling us off the stage, guys,” he said loudly, still trying to compete with the crowd. Michael nodded at him, took his statue from him and grabbed Reagan’s hand, pulling her off the stage with him. He waved at the crowd once more before pulling her behind the curtain with him and off to the side. She was still crying, her breathing even more constricted by this damn tight dress! When they’d finally made it past all the well-wishers and into a spot of relative quietness, Michael turned to her and smiled again.

“You’re pissed at me, aren’t you?” he teased, knowing how much she hated the crowds and being in the spotlight. Reagan nodded at him through her tears and smacked his arm in mock anger. He just laughed at her again and grinned, pulling her in for a big hug. “I love you, babe, and I wanted everyone to know.” He held her tightly, only releasing her long enough to grab two glasses of champagne from the server as he walked by with a tray. Reagan shook her head, declining the drink and Michael looked at her quizzically.

“It’s to celebrate, love!” he urged her, pushing the drink in her direction. He swallowed his down quickly, the whole glass gone in an instant. He pushed the other glass in her direction and again she declined. He shrugged his shoulders and lifted her glass up to his lips and took another drink, a smaller one this time as he regarded her, eyebrows drawn together.

“You’re going to have to drink it for me, Michael.” Reagan smiled at him coyly, her turn to laugh at him now. “At least for the next 8 or 9 months…”

Michael spit out the mouthful of champagne, choking on the fizzing liquid as Reagan patted him on the back soothingly. He leaned over and handed her his drink blindly, staring at the floor as he tried to catch his breath. “What are you saying, Reagan?” he mumbled as he grasped her arm to steady himself.

She leaned down next to his ear and smiled. "I’m pregnant, Michael.”

“Pregant?”

“A little over two months,” Reagan said, her mouth turning to a grimace as she stood up and tugged at her wretched dress once again. “I swear I am going to pass out, this thing is so tight,” she grouched, twisting and shifting to adjust the dress to fit her better. She could not wait to get this thing off!

Still fiddling with her dress, she gasped when Michael abruptly grabbed her around the waist and dragged her down the hall to a dressing room, pulling her inside and closing the door behind them and then locking it. He set the Oscar down on a nearby table and turned back to her, his eyes dark and stormy. Reagan stared at him warily, still wondering what his thoughts were on the baby. So much had happened in one day and she certainly didn’t want to ruin his night by telling him she was pregnant – that’s exactly why she’d waited this long. They’d talked about it and both wanted children, but neither thought it would happen so fast, least of all Reagan! She backed up as he stalked towards her, pulling at his bow-tie and undoing it, flinging it on the ground as he approached her. He casually undid the buttons at his neck, opening them all the way down and revealing his white undershirt.

“Michael?” Reagan whispered, her hands at her throat as she began to panic. Was he pissed at her? Was he happy?

“Please say something.” She was really getting freaked out now…

Michael pushed her up against the wall, his hands at her throat as he lowered his face to hers.

“Something,” he murmured against her lips, biting gently at her lower lip and pulling it in between his. Bastard! Reagan smacked him hard on the arm and tried to glare at him, but his mouth on hers was doing bad things to her. He kissed down her jaw and along her collarbone that was revealed by the dress, her breasts barely held in place by the thin but constricting fabric.

“Pregnant?” He lowered the strap on her dress off her left shoulder and bit her, hard enough to cause Reagan to cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Yes,” she moaned, her fingers twisting in his curls. His hair was so long now, so long and curly and red and thick! She scratched at his scalp, holding him to her as he moved.

“And you’re gonna marry me?” He lowered the strap on the other side, kissing along her shoulder as he did so.

“Umm…yes..,” Reagan moaned as he pulled down the front of her dress with one finger, her breasts spilling out in freedom. “Oh God!” she cried out when he took one nipple in his mouth and began to suckle on her, his lips and teeth and tongue tormenting her. He swirled his tongue one time and released her as he kissed back up her chest and to her jaw. His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers pulling at her nipples and Reagan wanted to scream out in pleasure. Her breasts had gotten so much more sensitive now, every touch igniting a fire in her that only Michael could put out.

“Tell me how to get this dress off, sweetheart,” Michael whispered huskily and Reagan’s eyes grew huge. She looked around the small room, filled with other people’s things. What if someone came back and caught them?

“Michael! Here?” she looked around again before staring back at him nervously. “What if someone comes?”

“Someone will come for sure,” he murmured again, leaning down to kiss her as his hands continued to fondle her too-sensitive breasts. Reagan smacked him again, pushing at his chest to get him to see reason.

“Seriously-” she began to argue again, but Michael silenced her with another kiss, and this time he pushed his tongue into her mouth and explored as his hands continued their exploration.

“Seriously. Tell me how to remove this fucking dress, or I’m going to rip it off you, love,” he warned her, his eyes glittering dangerously as he pulled back and stared at her.

“In…in the back,” Reagan whispered, not caring anymore about what could happen. “In the back there’s a zipper.” Michael abruptly turned her around, his fingers quickly finding said zipper and lowered it carefully. The dress slowly fell away from Reagan and Michael groaned in appreciation when he saw that all she was wearing was a miniscule thong.

“Damn, baby,” he whistled through his teeth as he pulled her to him. ‘I’ve been sitting next to you all evening and I had no fucking idea what you had on underneath that dress.” He reached around and cupped her breasts as he pulled her into his chest. Reagan’s head lolled to the side, sighing as she felt his lips at her neck once again.

“Nothing else would fit,” she mumbled, words failing her as his hands continued their exploration. When she felt his hands push down the front of her tiny thong, his fingers finding that spot that was so wet and waiting for him, she gave up trying to fight. The building could fall down around them and she wouldn’t notice….

* * *

 

 

“We need to get up,” Reagan giggled against Michael’s chest, laughing as she looked up at him. He was leaned up against the armrest, his head hanging off the back of the couch in exhaustion as Reagan lay on top of him.  "Someone’s going to come looking for us eventually.”

“Mhmmm,” Michael complained, pulling her back down on top of him but she wiggled out of his grasp.

“Michael.  Really.  We should get up,”  Reagan argued back, sitting up and scooting off of him as she pulled his t-shirt on over her head. “How much longer til this thing is over?”

She walked around the room as she searched for her panties. Not finding them, she reached down and grabbed her dress from the floor, quickly sliding it back up her legs and over her body. At least she had her dress on  -she could find her panties in a moment. She pulled his shirt off and tossed it back towards the couch.  Michael reluctantly sat up but did not move to get dressed, simply watched Reagan as she struggled with her dress. She turned and looked back at him, her cheeks heating as she saw how he was looking at her.  She clutched the dress to her chest in embarrassment. “Can you help me, please?”

“Sure,” Michael grinned, a wolfish grin and Reagan looked at him pointedly as he stood up and pulled his boxers and pants back on. He was still buttoning his pants as he moved towards her and Reagan held up a finger in warning.

“Help me put it on, Michael. Not take it back off!”

He held his hands up in surrender and laughed. “I’m only here to help, love,” he said, trying to sound innocent but Reagan knew better.  When he reached her he pulled her to him, holding her dress for her at her back as he held her to his chest.

“Michael, I need to get dressed,” Reagan whispered, desire blooming deep inside once again.  Michael leaned down and kissed her hard and smiled at her.

“I know, babe. I just wanted one last hug before we went back out,” he rubbed her back gently as he nuzzled her nose. “I love you.”

“I love you, more.” Reagan wrapped her arms around him, relishing the feeling of being pressed against him.  Oh how she wished they were at home where they could do this all night! She never wanted to put that fucking dress on ever again!

“This is a fucking perfect night. The Oscar, we’re getting married, and you’re pregnant,” Michael murmured against her hair as they stood locked in their embrace, their bodies slightly swaying to music that only they could hear. “Thank you, Reagan.”

“You’re really happy about the baby?” Reagan whispered, the insecurity finally given a voice.

“Beyond happy, love,” Michael whispered back, holding her to him tightly before letting go and looking at her with a smile. “I told you that you were stuck with me, sweetheart.” He grinned at her and Reagan grinned back.

They both jumped when the door knob started jiggling. Fuck! Someone was trying to get in. Michael grinned even bigger at Reagan’s look of terror and let go of her, holding up one finger as he walked over to the door and opened it slightly.

“Give me just a moment, please?” he asked, nodding his head as he listened from the other side. “Right. Be right there.” He closed the door behind him, making sure it was locked before he turned back to Reagan. “You’re right. They’ve been looking for me.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and Reagan glared at him before panic set in. 

“I told you! Help me put this dress back on, please!” Reagan cried, panic taking over as she thought about someone finding her like this. Michael chuckled as he moved to help her, trying to reign in his mirth as she fretted about the dress. She tugged at the dress, pulling it up as far as she could and held it to her chest, turning to show her back to him. "Zip it please!" she whispered furiously, her skin blotchy with embarrassment. Michael laughed out loud, much to Reagan's aggravation.

"I don't see what's so funny, jerk!" she hissed, her anxiety rising as sounds came from outside the door. Michael slowly raised the zipper, being careful not to catch her skin as he did so.

"All done, sweetheart." He smacked her on the ass, only furthering her aggravation with him as she turned around and glared at him.

"You are unbelievable!" She looked around frantically again for her panties, still not finding them. "Shit! I can't find my underwear, Michael!

"I'll help you find them," Michael said easily as he wandered over to the couch and picked up his shirt where she had tossed it and slid it over his head. He grabbed the dress shirt and slid into it, buttoning it as he did so. He was still grinning as he watched Reagan fiddle with her hair in the mirror, trying to fix the makeup that had smudged during the love-making. She caught him staring in the mirror and glared at him again. The noise was steadily getting louder outside the door, and Reagan was panicking even more so.

"What?" he asked her innocently, sliding his bow-tie over his head and adjusting it as he walked up to the mirror behind her.

"Nothing," she muttered as she bent over and stepped into her shoes. She grabbed her clutch and looked around, looking again for her missing thong. Another knock at the door caused her to jump and she glared at Michael again for putting them in such a position.  Well, two could play that game, she thought to herself, staring at his black shoes mischievously, missing thong forgotten.  Michael was still adjusting his shirt when Reagan opened the door, his shoes in her hand.  He looked at her through the mirror, his brow cocked as he stared at her.

"You wouldn't," he dared her, turning around slowly and trying to judge if he could catch her before she left.

"I would," she answered sweetly, opening the door wider and slid out into the hallway as she laughed at him. Michael turned back to the mirror, grinning at himself as he shrugged into his jacket. He gave himself one more look, smoothing his hair down as much as possible,  before grabbing his statue and heading out into the hallway, wearing only socks on his feet. He grinned to himself as he saw Reagan up ahead, his shoes in her hands as she talked to Ben.  He walked up to them both, grinning at Reagan as she smiled back at him.

"Did you lose something?" she asked him sweetly, hiding his shoes behind her back. Michael moved closer to her, his voice at her ear as he shoved something in her hands. She brought her hand around and looked at what he'd given her, and then just as quickly hid her hand back behind her back. Ben coughed and looked away, biting his lip as he tried not to laugh at her. Her fucking thong!

"I'll trade you, sweetheart," Michael said easily, taking his shoes from her hands as her face bloomed in embarrassment once again. He laughed as she hastily stuffed the thong in her clutch, trying to keep a straight face as Ben pretended to not see anything. Reagan closed her eyes briefly, and then opened them, glaring at Michael.

"I'm going to the ladies room, Michael," she bit out. As she marched away, Michael called to her in amusement.

"You sure you don't need help, love?" he offered, and Reagan turned to glare at him sharply before walking away again towards the ladies room. Michael laughed out loud as he put his shoes on, eagerly taking the whiskey that Benedict offered him.

"Never thought I'd see the day, Fassbender," Ben remarked, sipping on his own drink as he did so. Michael took a drink as well, watching the restroom with a grin.

"Me neither, mate," he agreed. "Me neither."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course this is inaccurate and way out in left field, but IMO he was robbed of the damn Oscar so I'm giving it to him in my fantasy world....peace and love :-)


End file.
